I am 35 years old and I lost the love of my life 7 months ago. He committed suicide one week before Christmas. He was 42 years old and the most handsome, sensitive man I have ever met. We had dated for a year and a half and had our problems, I told him I needed a break to get my life back together and he needed to do the same, then we could possible get together at the end of the year. He called me two weeks prior to his death and said he couldn't sleep, eat and was losing weight he missed me so much and wanted to know if I missed him. I did, but I knew I had to be strong and stay away until he got his life in order, he wasn't motivated at work, because he was too worried about what I was doing, he went to stay with his mother for a week. I didn't hear from him anymore, until I got the call from his boss.
I remember kicking the walls, and screaming til my veins felt like they would bust out of my head. He had left his mom's house that night and went home, called his brother and told him he didn't want to live anymore, that God was calling him. His brother and he talked til 1am and when they hung up, he felt like he was okay. His brother came by his house that morning and found him with a rifle in his hand, he had shot himself in the head in his kitchen. His brother said he did not find a note, but I'm not sure.
His whole family blames me for his decision to take his life, they say I broke his heart and he couldn't take the pain anymore. I can't sleep, I can't function at work, I feel like a zombie, I just want to be by his side.
I would love to talk with anyone who would like to write.