Talking

I went to see the social worker today. She mostly just sat there and let me talk. I don't know why I was expecting something more. I know all the things that they tell you already. I've done therapy before and I'm aware of the stages of grief. It felt good to talk though.

Maybe the group will be better. I contacted the LGBT center and they have a bereavement group that meets twice a week. I'm looking forward to that. I don't know why, but I think talking with other gay widows would help. Right now no one who is giving me advice has ever been in my position, and while I feel that they have good intentions, I don't think they understand what I'm going through.

I want to die

I don't want to live without Gerard. He was so kind and warm and wonderful. He was the reason I got out of bed in the morning, my reason for breathing. He was the sum of my hopes and dreams. With him gone not only do I have nothing left to live for, but I don't want to live at all. A world without him is not one I want to live in.