Widow's Voice

Everywhere and nowhere.

| Posted by:

You are everywhere and yet nowhere. 

Sometimes, you are everywhere. I hear songs you love playing in restaurants and shops. I hear jokes that you would have told. At least weekly, I see silver Honda Civics in parking lots and in traffic. It still makes me pause. I see people wearing shirts you owned. I close my eyes and hear your laugh. I see your facial expressions. Sweet memories pop into my brain at random times and sometimes I still laugh out loud. The way you impacted me is obvious–in my decisions, preferences, and the way I see the world. You are everywhere. 

But, sometimes you are nowhere. The space between us grows. Sometimes, I cannot remember details about you. My brain cannot bring certain memories of you forward, or they feel distant. Over four years separates us and sometimes that feels huge. You aren’t in conversations anymore. People aren’t asking about you. Your name isn’t spoken. Your witty comebacks are not heard. Your body, and your warmth no longer felt. You aren’t in recent photos or even memories of last year, or the year before, or the one before that. Sometimes it is as if you were never here. Sometimes, you are nowhere.

How can that be? You are so present, yet so distant. You are everywhere and nowhere.

About Victoria Helmly

My love story began in 2005 and though my love is no longer physically here with me, our story has not ended. I met Boris when we were 14, but it was not until our junior and senior year of high school that we became more than friends (he was my first kiss!). We went to the same college and although our relationship was a bit rocky through our early 20s, we made it through. He was my person. Our relationship grew stronger as we matured and learned about one another more as adults. I was certain that he was my forever. We talked about the future a lot and we knew we would get married, but we did not want to rush—he was still finishing graduate school and I was just starting my first full-time job. We did not realize how little time we had left together.

In the summer of 2017, Boris was hospitalized three times for active suicidal ideation. This was a heartbreaking, exhausting, and life-changing experience. After 10 months of therapy, medication, and support groups, Boris died by suicide on April 7, 2018. My life now has two parts: the one before April 7, 2018 and the one after. My very best friend, my person was now gone.

If you were to ask how I am doing now, 2.5 years later, I would say I am okay. I am living. My world continues to spin, and I continue to move forward. However, I still carry deep sorrow and loneliness. I have struggled with PTSD, anxiety, and depression. Sometimes I still cannot believe that he is actually gone. I still feel him with me, and I know that I will never stop loving and missing him.

I am currently in school for my Ph.D. and live just outside of Atlanta with our cat, Kitty Cat (Boris is responsible for the creative name). I work as a graduate research assistant currently, but I worked for three years with our State Unit on Aging prior to going back to school. I love movies, my friends and family, long walks, and traveling.