Widow's Voice

Texts.

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Sometimes I do what I call “pressing the bruise” and look at something or do something that I know will trigger my grief or feel sad. This week, I did one of those things and I read through saved text messages with Boris. And yeah, it did hurt. Especially the messages where I was angry with him, or we were talking about him struggling with something. Boris was not very good at replying to texts, so there were a lot of “please reply!” or “hello? Are you ok?” I was always so frustrated by this, and then really worried once I knew he was struggling with his mental health. Some of the texts were really hard to read again, and brought up some trauma and unsettling feelings.

However, I also had fun (!!) reading some of the messages. I laughed out loud at some of the jokes, or memories of funny situations we were referring to. There were a couple of gifs, and some pop culture references. And some discussion of the people in our lives–our families, our friends, and of course, our cat. Reading some of the texts was a nice trip down memory lane. Bittersweet, I guess?

The most significant thing about reading these texts was that I was reminded of how often we said “I love you”. I can get caught up in wondering if I said it enough to him, and sometimes even caught up in the question of, did he really love me? I think losing someone to suicide makes those thoughts and feelings more complicated, especially because we didn’t always have a smooth, easy relationship–we had a lot of arguments and conflicts. Reading the “I love you” texts was really important for me, and I felt some relief. I know the doubts and feelings won’t go away just because of this, but it certainly felt good and somewhat healing. 

I don’t know when the next time will be that I will revisit these texts or other messages we exchanged, but for now, I think this experience was good for me this time, albeit difficult. I just will always wish I had more. More photos, videos, and texts. I will always want more of him. 

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.