To Love

***Trigger warning: Suicide***

It’s the time of year when I’ve been thinking a lot about my mother’s death. The hardest thing about living with the loss of a loved one to suicide is the seemingly never-ending guilt and anger.

I replay the moments that torture me on a loop – thinking if only I could have done more. Gave more, done more, been more. I’m angry at myself for not being something that I could never be – that no one could ever be. I’m angry that sometimes I lashed out. That I wasn’t always perfect. That I wasn’t a never-ending well of giving.

That I couldn’t give all of me, all that I am, to save her.

It’s supposed to be easy to love someone.

I think sometimes, loving someone is the hardest thing you’ll ever do.

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5 thoughts on “To Love

  1. I hear you darling Sophia. There is not a day a evening a bed time I don’t feel loss and guilt at not being the Father that could help or save his daughter. The biggest regret of my life is failing Sherry, never seeing the suicide coming, never seeing the complete desperation. We talked many times a week during her hospital stay and she would never hang up until I said My darling daughter.

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