Still not quite finished

Fighting off depression and anger again, in about equal amounts. I am getting better, I know I am. It has been months since Cyndie's suicide has seriously bothered me. Not that I forgot about it. Almost every day it pops into my head in one way or another. I cannot get away from her memory entirely, nor do I want to so do. We had children in common and I still love and need them in my life. They are adopted, technically, but in every way my children. Their children are my grandchildren.

I still have anger at the betrayal. At least I think I do. Am I angry at our marriage being betrayed or angry that she left without saying goodbye? That is still the hardest part about suicide. It is what sets it apart from losing loved ones to illness. You do not get to say goodbye.

I have, I believe, come to grips with the balance of enjoying and having a new love and still missing the old. That never seemed to be a problem. It seemed right at the time and now I know it was.

Just wish the anger would leave.