Widow's Voice

July 25th

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Another July 25th has come and gone. It was the day that Boris and I used to call our dating anniversary. We weren’t really sure when our actual anniversary was, but I knew it was around this time. We were two 17-year-old kids making out at Tybee Beach and staying out past my curfew. I remember how he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I remember the butterflies I felt when I got home that night. It felt like a high, and I had never felt that way before. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking, “Wow, something has changed”. I thought I looked different, or something. I definitely felt different. He was so funny and charming and made me feel so special. We argued and disagreed about so much, even back then, but I could not deny the magnetic draw I had for him. I wanted to be around him all the time, but I was comfortable when we were apart. I wanted to talk to him about everything and share everything with him. I hadn’t had a boyfriend before or even kissed someone else, so my love story with Boris is also the story of my first everything. After several years, he sort of brushed off July 25th and we didn’t really celebrate it anymore. But, I always remembered it and we always talked about it, remembering those early years of butterflies and young romance.

Considering we were only 27 when he died, our romance was still so young. We were still just kids. I will forever treasure the love we shared, and the love I still have for him. Every July 25th I will think of him and kissing at the beach. I will remember going to Arby’s drive-through and riding in his Honda Accord. I will remember the Secondhand Serenade song that was playing, and how I felt my heart racing in the dark on the drive home. I am so lucky that my first love lasted so long, and that it was with someone I wanted to spend forever with. I am so sad that it was cut short, and I wish we could have one day had a wedding anniversary to celebrate, or an anniversary of our first home together. Love is beautiful, but so cruel, as we all know too well.

xo

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.