Someone I used to love died
We were in our late thirties. Only together about a year. She had a career, I was still a grad student. A random search and she’s just gone. For almost ten years now. Some short posts from people who knew her, a few low-resolution pictures. A memorial scholarship in her name, established but now dissolved.
I hate when books and movies lean on extreme events like illness and death to raise the emotional stakes. This isn’t that.
I haven’t been close to many people. I guess there are what ifs with every ex. We were clear eyed at that age, not making wild teenage promises. Together until we weren’t, both decisions made sense at the time. Even a rare-for-me healthy kind of closure, with good memories and few regrets.
Still.
Even before I knew she died, in retrospect our what ifs seemed solvable. Our maybes were close. We could have worked out. Just timing, distance, all the adult excuses. But if we’d given it a little more time, then it wouldn’t have unfolded the same, and maybe she’s still here. I’m stuck on that. I don’t know why.
I've built a life I'm happy with. Several, since we were together. But that phrase. Disenfranchised grief. I get it now.