I hate it when I dream about Matt. I woke up this morning and couldn’t remember what I had been dreaming – nothing except that Matt had been in it. When I wake up after dreaming about him, I find it harder to get up and have a good day. One exception – when I know that he’s dead in my dream. But most of the time, he’s alive and well. (Sigh)

I get so fucking tired of crying.

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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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