I’ve been debating with myself and my cats if i should do this. If i should talk, discuss, and cry. But i should.
I lost my best friend, my husband, about 8 months ago.
He decided to leave this world after some difficult times, and he took his own life. My life collapsed that night. My heart died. My world stopped breathing. When i found him lifeless, i lost myself.

I suppose my debating was when and how, not if, i should do this. When i *could* do this.
When i should talk.
Because we must talk.
We mustn’t ever be silent over the loss of our loved ones, especially when they leave by suicide.

So this blog will not necessarily be about the loss, although my life is now forever carrying loss.
I will talk about the layers that cover the pain of that loss … the conversation will be about the now. the present, but i will no doubt drift to the past…
My life goes on whether i like it or not, and many days, i will say, i do not like it at all.

This blog isn’t necessarily about running, either, but about being here. Being here without them, and figuring out how the hell does one actually ‘go on’. Running, along with other things, has played a part in my daily decision to be good to myself, to attempt to heal, to breathe for the moment. To breathe for him.

The day i decided to start running would have been our 8th wedding anniversary.
I drove out to the woods, and i put one foot in front of the other and i ran.
I’m still here. I’m still running.
I’m sad, devastated, lost, lonely, hollow, but i’m still here – putting one foot in front of the other.
Grief Runs.