I Lost Someone To Suicide

My stories won't come in order of importance.

I just saw a call for volunteers over at PostSecret.com. It's in Santa Rosa, CA.
I thought "If it were closer, Belle might like this."

I'm still thinking of her for low-demand work opportunities to give her life meaning.

She's been gone less than two weeks. I don't know whether to hope that I stop thinking these things or that I never stop. I think the latter.

I don't want to stop thinking about helping her despite its disconnect from reality.

Before she died, she had set up shop at a farmers' market, started a community college class, gone to two sobriety meetings in four days, and seen a therapist at least twice a month.

Every one of these things was a trophy for my mental achievement shelf for her. She needed more time, but her relentless inner voice didn't allow it.

I miss her and I'm so sorry I didn't do better. I didn't know how.
She loved me and I, her.

There's so much more to say.