Widow's Voice

Inside Jokes.

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I miss inside jokes. And little things that only Boris would “get”. I was watching a Netflix movie several months ago, Desperados, and one of the main characters (a widower) says something about missing the “dinner party glance” with his late wife. That connection where you just give each other a “look” because you both are thinking the same thing and you’ll talk about it later on the drive home. I miss having that person that I can talk to about the crazy thing someone said at the party or gossiping about mutual friends (because it doesn’t feel like gossip when it is with your partner!)

Weird fact: Boris and I used to both doodle cubes. Somehow we discovered that we both did this, so we’d sometimes draw cubes on notes or cards to one another. This is super random, so it feels weird to share with the outside world. It doesn’t really have a special meaning or story attached to it, it is just a “thing” that we both did. So, now when I catch myself drawing cubes absent-mindedly, I think of Boris. The Internet tells me this: “drawing squares suggests that you want control of a situation and are trying to work out a problem.” I feel like this is a constant truth for me, and I think this holds some truth for Boris too. I wish we could work on these problems together. 

Anyway, that’s all from me right now. I just miss little things like that. Drawing cubes. Gossipping. Movie quotes. Weird words and nicknames. All that stuff.

(those are water balloons in my shirt in that picture by the way!)

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.