Life. Changing.

I'm so far away inside my head. I went from everything to nothing in the blink of an eye.

I'm going to take a deep breathe now and try to explain this and then I don't know how I'll write again here. I really don't at this point. I'd really like to, I just don't know if I can.

People started arriving around nine, the night of Jacob's birthday. First Christian, Joel and then PJ and Ben. Then Mark, Jason (in his police uniform which should have been a tip-off) Sam and Elisabeth arrived in a group. Then Duncan. August appeared from nowhere. Robin, Chris and Andrew. When everyone was there, Ben put his arms around me and asked me to sit down. Everyone had their hands on me, touching me. Steadying me.

I thought they were here for an intervention. I had two drinks that week. I was so fucking weak. I didn't get scared until Lisabeth went upstairs to check the kids. Yes, it appears they were here to make sure I was sober.

But they were here for a different reason. They had something to tell me.

The night before his thirty-seventh birthday, Jacob learned to fly. He walked out onto the balcony or the roof (we're not sure which) of his high-up hotel room in a city I have never been to and he unfurled his breathtaking (and not imaginary in the slightest) wings and he flew and I bet it was the biggest rush in the world. He has base-jumped, he would know.

He is in heaven now and now I know he was most definitely an angel, here on loan from God. For me.

I will never run into him on the street by chance. I'll never have a second chance to fall in love with him. I never fell out of love with him in the first place.

Jacob's parents came out to be with us, looking after us, taking care of their son's family, though he tried valiantly to make things easy for me legally by extricating himself from our lives, he pulled it off in name only. They were here because they want to hang on to Jacob, through us. They said I made him so much happier than any other time in his life and they were happy we finally got together.

I thought they would hate me. I hate me.

The night of the sixth I woke up in the grip of a panic attack, the likes of which I've never had before. Not even when Jacob was with me. It took forever to calm down again, and I never went back to sleep. It happened the night that Jacob died. Somehow, I knew.

A million lifetimes ago he extracted a promise from me that I would stay on earth until God decided it was time for me to go and no sooner. I'll be keeping that promise and I know now why I made it. Because he would never have made it and he needed to be sure that the children wouldn't lose both of us. He was sent to show me the beauty of life and when I finally saw it his work here was complete and he took himself home. He protected me from certain death and once the danger had passed it took his usefulness with it. That was how he explained it to me in part of the letter. He said a million times I did not cause this, I only prolonged his plans to die, but I will never believe that and will blame myself into eternity. Not til I die, for I am already cold. He stuck around long enough to get me away from Cole and he never expected to fall so hard.

His persistence for me to be with him was his last chance at life.

And why the hell didn't he just stay?

We were happy. He didn't have to do this.

I like to hope that now I have Jacob watching over me. That deep down he did want me to succeed and go on to have some kind of life after Cole and things were never as easy for Jacob as he claimed them to be.

Part of me has died with him, I won't lie. Briefly I was well-prepared to break every promise and join him but I doubt we'll end up in the same afterlife and he is right. I need to be here for Ruth and Henry and I will remain here for them forever. I was never sure how but it's surprisingly easy to walk around with a gaping hole in your soul. I hope you never have to try it. And we'll be okay. I'm going to be okay. He did that for me, he made sure I was surrounded by people who care, people he forced to care in the right way, and he gave me the tools to deal with this. He isn't coming back for me but he's with me forever.

I took off when I found out. I ran. I left Sam and Lisabeth in charge of the kids and I went to Caleb's hotel, an explanation which I again will save for another day. Ben took me out of there two days later and I went far far away to a place where they gave me shots full of wonderful dreams to keep me from screaming because for a very long time, I couldn't seem to stop. When I stopped screaming they talked very gently and eventually I talked back. Eventually they figured I was okay to go home, with help. I did not want to be there. I don't want to be here.

Jacob had no life insurance, no valuables, no legacy except for his impact on the people he touched. A week after his birthday a box from him was delivered to the house. It held all of his journals, all of his thoughts, everything. On the top was another letter to me and this is now my heart, his priceless words to me explaining to me that he wanted me to read all of it, that he didn't leave it here before for fear I would destroy it all unread when he left, and pure assurances that this wasn't my fault. Some journals I had never seen, the ones he hid from me.

I have some pictures and his letter and his ring and what's inside my now-destroyed heart. And when I said it was harder than him being dead to know he was out there in the world without me, I was wrong. At least when he was alive, I had hope.

Reading his thoughts in his own writing has been the best medicine I ever took. Some of it is so difficult but all of it so beautiful. He really did love me. I was his world, with the kids but he just couldn't stay. Mentors were not mentors but long-term therapists and analysts, meetings were sessions, and long trips away that he took during our entire relationship were never of the tourist variety. At least not for as long as he said they were. If I wasn't well on the inside, he was sicker. His struggles were so quiet. No one could have ever known.

I didn't know. I was too busy trying to fix my own goddamned head to see how bad off he was.

I was the strong one after all. I have finally touched what happens to the people you leave behind and it is worse than I imagined it to be. But don't worry about me, I can't stress it enough. I know what's going on but I don't feel it. This is for the best, being like this.

Memories of him are all I breathe now.

I love you, Pooh.

I always will