It’s been three months and one day.  I crashed and burned yesterday.  I completely fell apart in a way that I had never done before.  When I woke up, I felt like I could no longer exhale, like all the wind had been constricted from my lungs.  I don’t know why the three month anniversary drew such a tense response.  I thought I had more control than that.  Mistake number one: Social Media.

I truly felt empty and wanted to post something that would let others know in a gentle way that I was hurting.  I wanted to feel love and support.  And I did…but every time someone posted a “hugs” or “thinking about you” in response, I felt a tear roll down my face. Eventually the tears became overwhelming and I had to leave.  I was home when I saw Grant’s three month post.  Maybe you even saw it. Maybe you even composed it for him. His exact words were “During this October I pray he is haunting the one who is responsible for his death, may they not rest.” 

That’s when it really hit me. I am being blamed for your death by the very people I thought were my friends. That explains why the club members turned their backs on me at the funeral. Literally. Would not hug me. Would not acknowledge me. Clustered together in the back of the room. 

Am I responsible for your death? No. Others need to understand this though. And I don’t know how to tell them and that crushes me.