Nothing is the same without her. It hasn’t been normal. It’s so distressing to want to call and talk to the only person who could understand.

I can’t talk about it. I can’t write about it here. Because as much as I hate what is being done to me, I love her more. As much as I want to put poison into my words and burn it all down, I would never. Ever. Because of her and because of who she helped me become.

Hurt people hurt people, I know that. And in this case, hurt brews with fear and insecurity and regret and I end up on an island, far far away from the love and healing that is so necessary in these times.

I have to walk my mind away from the swirling spiral of vitriol. My thoughts are like a child who has wandered off and is herded back to safety. I gently remind myself of what is true.

I was there. I am so, so grateful I was able to show up for her. We talked daily. When she was in need, I was plentiful. We celebrated, we hugged, we shared, we planned for our futures. We had grown so much in the last six months, and I feel really fortunate to have experienced that with her.

She got the best of me because that’s the kind of person she was. She brought out the best in everyone. She was so selfless and kind and caring. It is impossible to not reflect the sun if you have any shine left in you.

I will continue to walk beside her. I will write for her children, tell them stories of who she was and how deeply she loved them. I hold out faith that someday the sun will shine again on all of us. I know in that moment it will be through her.

You cannot hide the sun forever. It always rises. The clouds burn off and things feel bright again. The world is filled with possibility again. Joy is restored.

That day will come. I believe in that. Even through the heaviness of today, I hold on to that dream.