When people talk about anniversaries, it’s usually a good thing. Usually you’re celebrating a wonderful life event. Tomorrow is the third anniversary of Ian’s death. Far less happy. However, I have to say, three years out it’s also far less devastating.

I still miss him. I’m still pissed that he’s not here. But it’s not a gaping hole in my heart anymore. It’s a healing hole in my heart. Life goes on, and I had to go with it.  It makes me feel incredibly guilty to say that. Like I’m betraying his family, his mom, his memory… But that’s how I am now.  I’m healing. I have new friends, a new relationship, new goals, and new hobbies. All of these things are helping me move forward.

This week, I told the story of Ian and my relationship to someone who hadn’t heard it yet. I didn’t cry. I got choked up, and it was still painful, but it’s a different type of pain now. It’s dull… distant. Deep.

I hope my experience gives someone hope… because it got better. Despite my feeling like it never would. I’m not over it. I will never be OVER it. But I’m ok, and that’s a vast improvement over where I thought I’d be a year ago. Much less two years ago.

Life goes on. And so do we.


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