The Part That Stayed

November 23, 2025

Journal Entry

I have so much anger and rage. I hate you for making me go through this again. All you had to do was come home or call me to pick you up. That was it. What was so bad that you had to leave me like this?

I love you, and now I hate you. The trauma bond is the worst part because not only am I grieving you being gone — because you were my morning, my afternoon, and my sunset — but I’m grieving the emotional tether we shared when things were bad. Even then, we still had each other. Now I have nothing.

I was so good without you in the aftermath of the first loss. You helped me believe again, and then you accused me of making you dependent on me. But we were dependent on each other — we knew that, we acknowledged it, and we accepted it. And then you left me.

I learned so much about him because of you. You showed me around your hometown and filled in the pieces of his story — the childhood memories, the places, the things he couldn’t tell me himself. Through you, I felt closer to him. You were my comfort in the painful absence of what was my former life. You filled in the gaps I couldn’t fill on my own — the ones I didn’t even know I still needed. And now, all of that is gone too. There is no more. I grieve it all, every bit of it. All at once, it’s all-consuming.

Reflection:

Love can be both the wound and the salve — and in that contradiction, I am learning to breathe again. Some pieces of love remain, even when the person doesn’t.

Mantra:

I am still here.

I am still Love.

I am still Becoming.

Journal Entry

angry, grief, loss, peace, surviving

One response to “The Part That Stayed”

marianallen

November 25, 2025 at 9:03 am

Oh, honey, I’m so glad you got the chance to learn so much about Eric through his friend, but so so so sorry you had to lose him twice through the loss of his friend. If I believed in such things, or if I was writing a story about it, I would have him come to you in order to give you Eric’s past and have him leave because he had achieved his purpose. I would make it sweet and nourishing, not harsh and wounding. HUGS

Loading…

Reply

Tell Me Something GoodCancel reply

About Me and My Grief Journey

My grief journey began in the Summer of 2020. I became a widow overnight. Without warning, my entire life was turned upside down, broken into pieces I didn’t know how to put back together. Writing became my anchor—my way to breathe, process, and heal, even in small, fractured moments.

After losing Eric, I was diagnosed with PTSD, complicated grief, and an anxiety disorder. For a long time, I was paralyzed by my own emotions. I traveled across the U.S. for over two years, mostly alone, learning how to carry myself through the aftermath of sudden loss.

Along the way, I found love again. Greg became an important part of my life, bringing companionship, laughter, and even new challenges. Losing him to suicide has been another unimaginable heartbreak that shapes much of what I write here. Through it all, my emotional support animals —Odin (dog) and Freija (cat)— keep me grounded and remind me there is still love, life, and care to give.

I moved and now reside in Chicago, Illinois. This city, this home, is my space to rebuild, to grieve, and to explore who I am beyond loss.

What you will find here

This blog started as a place to house my writing. Over time, it’s become much more. Here, I reflect on grief, healing, and the messy, beautiful, often difficult journey of life after sudden loss. I write about my day-to-day experiences, the struggles and triumphs with my diagnoses, and anything else that captures my heart and attention.

My journey on podcasts

Many of my articles are available in podcast form on Spotify and Amazon Music. I welcome your comments—I love feedback. Let’s share this journey together, and maybe find adventure along the way.

Blue Widow Chronicles