Second Monday.

Standing at the beach. Thinking that time heals all wounds, unless they’re too big and you die. I guess the latter happened to Matt. I don’t think I’m going to die though, which makes my chances of healing from all of this pretty good. I have to keep reminding myself of this.

I’m so scared that I’ll never find anyone who makes me as happy as Matt did.

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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