Love You Always

This is a work of fiction, taken from the real life experiences of a number of people I know and care about.

Mental health awareness is something I am passionate about; men's mental health is often overlooked and played down. If you are affected by any of the topics covered in my story, please seek appropriate help and support.

This story may contain triggers for certain people.

******

Today...

I miss you.

Without you, my life has no meaning.

You left me and I'll never know why.

Did I do something wrong?

If I'd done something different, would you still be here?

I guess I'll never know.

******

Two Years Ago...

I was sitting in the canteen, the first time I saw you. Tall, with a mess of black hair, wandering through the doors looking lost. I remember everything about that moment; the clothes you were wearing, what you picked out of the vending machine, how my breath caught in my chest when your eyes swept the room- briefly casting a glance my way.

I asked my friends if they knew who you were. None of them knew your name, but one of my friends thought she'd seen you around the computer lab.

I had lectures all afternoon, but I couldn't keep my mind on task. My thoughts kept drifting back to you. After my last lecture of the day, I decided to take a walk past the computer labs. I was nervous at the thought of seeing you again. I didn't know why you had such a powerful hold over me, but I needed to find out more.

The first computer lab was empty, I followed the corridor to the second one.

There you were. The glow of the monitor lighting up your face. There were a handful of people in the room with you, all engrossed in their own screens.

Now what? I couldn't just walk in, I didn't even know your name.

I hung around in the corridor for a bit, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly I stumbled forward as someone walked into the back of me. A hand reached out to steady me and I turned. It was you.

You looked surprised to find someone loitering right outside the door. You smiled, asking if I was ok. Our eyes met, holding each other's gaze longer than necessary. You introduced yourself.

Max.

I had a name to go with your face, your captivating grey-blue eyes. I smiled back, tripping over my own name and giggling with embarrassment.

You asked if I wanted a coffee. I followed you back to the canteen, where I'd first spotted you hours ago.

One coffee turned to two. All too soon, canteen staff were cleaning up around us, waiting for us to leave. You offered to walk me back to my dorm.

As it turned out, your dorm was in the same block as mine, just on a different floor. At my door we swapped numbers, promising to call tomorrow. I smiled, watching you walk away down the corridor.

******

One Year Ago...

Uni was over, both of us graduating in our own specialist fields. We had been inseparable over the last 12 months, even moving out of the dorms into a small apartment together.

We were in love. Our future mapped out in front of us. You were quiet and introverted, caught up in my bubbly personality. You knew what you wanted to do with your life, a clear purpose that would allow you to provide for us and the family we planned to have together.

You knew what you wanted, one boy and one girl. Not twins, but close in age. I smiled at your plans, willing to put my career on hold to have a family with you.

We made love a lot. You were a gentle, considerate lover. We lived in our little bubble of love and happiness.

We were married quickly, in a quiet registry office; witnessed by just our parents.

******

Eight Months Ago...

You held my hand tightly, beaming at the screen as the ultrasound showed us our baby. A boy. You showed our scan prints to anyone and everyone! Filling our spare room with tiny outfits and beautiful, wooden baby furniture.

You worked overtime to ensure we could afford everything he would need. Coming home with bunches of flowers for me, stroking my growing bump, whispering to me how proud you are of me, how beautiful I looked.

We discussed names, planned for all the things we wanted him to experience and achieve. You spent evenings gently stroking my bump, talking to our son.

******

Five Months Ago...

You held my hand tightly, tears falling silently down your face as the ultrasound showed us our baby. Our boy.

'I'm sorry,' the sonographer had told us, 'I can't find a heartbeat.'

We sat and cried together as the days turned into nights. I would need to be induced. I would have to give birth to our boy, knowing that he'd never take breath into his still lungs. Never look at us with his beautiful eyes. I always imagined his eyes would be the same striking shade as yours.

They gave us a date. His date of birth would also be his date of death. I felt numb as they wheeled me into the delivery suite, you following me in, never letting go of my hand.

Tears flowed from us both as he finally slipped from me. The silence in the room was overwhelming. Where there should have been the sounds of a newborn, there were hushed voices and the sound of you crying quietly next to me.

I had never seen someone so heartbroken as you, when they placed his still body in your arms. Wrapped in the soft blanket, he looked like a regular newborn; until you looked closer at his skin, tinged blue in death.

The nurses weighed and measured him, giving us as much information as they could for us to remember him. They took his hand and foot prints. We took countless photos. The hospital staff let us have all the time that we wanted with him. We both called our parents, wanted to give them an opportunity to meet their grandson.

He was perfect. The doctors had no explanation for what had happened. It was just bad luck. No reason why we couldn't go on to have more children in the future, they told us.

But I didn't want more children in the future, I wanted our son.

A week later, close friends and family joined us at the crematorium. His coffin was so tiny, you carried it in on your own, holding him in your arms for his final journey. We scattered his ashes in their memorial garden, with a small plaque bearing his name, marking his existence in the world.

******

Two Months Ago...

Things changed between us. Grief had altered us both in ways we didn't know how to talk about. I suggested counselling, but instead you threw yourself into your work.

The door to the spare room was closed. Neither of us was ready to face what was inside. I still loved you to my core and I know you loved me still. We both just needed time. Time to adjust to a world without our boy.

You started drinking in the evenings. Claiming you needed it to help you sleep. I worried about you. But we both had our own ways of coping. I was sure you would come back to me when you were ready.

We made love tentatively, trying to pretend that everything was normal. When I didn't feel like I could talk to you, I went to the memorial garden to talk to our son.

******

One Month Ago...

Time stood still when I answered the door to the two police officers. You had left for work early that morning, nothing different in our usual Wednesday routine.

I don't remember much about what they told me. They were sorry. A body had been recovered from the river. Your wallet was found in his pocket. The body was unresponsive. CPR was given at the scene. They were sorry. So sorry.

I needed to accompany them. Someone needed to identify you. I felt a familiar numbness fill me as they drove me to the morgue.

Family support officers accompanied me in, as the mortician pulled back the stiff white sheet.

You looked like you were sleeping. Your clothes replaced by a hospital gown. The same blue tinge marking your skin as our beautiful boy. I lifted the hair from your forehead, pushing it back to stroke your face.

You were so cold. I laid my head on your chest, unable to comprehend what was happening. I waited to feel your chest rise and fall with each breath, but there was nothing.

I howled. Rivers of tears falling down my face onto your lifeless body. I felt one of the support officers place their hands on my shoulders. They were there to help me, but I didn't want them and their rehearsed words. I wanted you. Only you.

They were sorry. So sorry.

First our son and now you. They wanted me to leave you there, but my feet wouldn't move. If I walked away, I'd be on my own. I needed you.

I felt those same hands pulling me from you. Telling me to calm down. They dragged me out, the mortician covering you with the sheet again, hiding you from me. As if hiding you would take away the pain.

They were all sorry. So sorry.

I don't remember them taking me home. They held an enquiry and an autopsy. Witnesses came forward claiming to have seen you jump from the bridge. They interviewed me. Did I have any idea you were depressed? Had you ever tried to kill yourself before? Did I know you were going to do it?

They listed your cause of death as a suicide. You left no note. No explanation. No reason for me to accept or to justify your choice.

I moved back in with my parents. I couldn't stand being in our home, surrounded by memories of you and the family we lost.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I was driving to work, on autopilot, doing what I do everyday to get by. I don't feel anything anymore. I haven't for a while now. People keep saying it will get better, but no one can tell you when.

My usual route was diverted due to roadworks, taking me over the bridge for a change. Suddenly I felt full of purpose, for the first time since we lost our son, I knew what I needed to do.

I parked the car and walked back over the bridge. It's still early, so there aren't many people around. I stop in the middle, at the highest point and take my phone from my pocket.

I scrolled through the photos on my phone; you, my beautiful wife, my soulmate. It was my fault we lost him. I know it was. I've always felt like I didn't deserve you.

Tears ran down my face, streaking down the screen of my phone, blurring the next image; the three of us together at the hospital. I feel the pain building in my chest, leading to sobs of grief pouring from me.

All I've done is cry since it happened. People are telling me to man up, making me feel like my grief is a weakness. I don't want to talk to you about it, in case you think I'm weak.

I always promised to provide for you and our family. No one wants to be married to a weak man. You'd be better off without me around. I'm sure you've stayed with me out of pity.

Today I'm going to change that. There is no other option. There is only one way to end this pain.

I scroll back to a photo of us together, wiping the tears from my face as I climb over the railing of the bridge.

There's silence around me. There's nothing in my head except thoughts of you and our son. I stare at the picture in my hand, feeling weightless as I fall through the air.

I close my eyes as I hit the cold water, gasping the icy liquid into my lungs. I've let go of my phone, but the image in my mind is all I see. The last thing I think about is you. I'm setting you free.

I fight against the instinct to tread water, feeling the water pulling me down. I remember your face, your smile, the touch of your hands on my skin. My wife. My soulmate. My world.

I'm lightheaded now, but I still see you and our son in my mind. I'm going to look after him, protect him, until we're all together again.

I feel happy, happier than I've felt in ages. I can feel my muscles relaxing.

I love you...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

******

Today...

The crematorium seats are hard and cold against my back. People come out to talk about you and your life. I don't hear any of it. My ears are ringing, filled with a constant buzzing. There you are, a few feet in front of me, shut inside a wooden casket. The closest I will ever be to you again.

My feet have a mind of their own, as I rise from my seat, taking me to you. The speaker pauses, unsure of what is happening, watching me climb the steps to the platform.

I walk to you, running my hand along the polished wooden lid, trying to find a way to open it. To look at you one last time. The tears from my eyes bouncing off of the polished surface.

I hear my mum's voice telling me to sit down, I smell her sweet perfume as her hands reach out to me, to guide me back to my seat. I lay my head on the lid, wet from my tears, whispering to you how much I love you. Pleading with you to come back to me.

Stronger hands are on me now, wrapping around me, taking me away from you. I hear a harsh, wounded sound echoing around the room. I realise that it's the sound of my grief. My sobbing breaking through my chest in gasping bursts.

My father leads me into a side room, away from the others there to mourn you. I fall to my knees, unable to support myself any longer. My father slumps in a chair, head in his hands, his own tears running between his fingers. Reaching out occasionally to stroke my hair or touch my shoulder.

I don't see them draw the curtain around the coffin, taking you down. Listening to a song play that I don't remember choosing. I stay in the room with my father as everyone leaves, unable to bear their condolences and words of comfort.

My mum comes to find us, quietly taking my hand, followed by your parents. We sit in silence for a while.

We leave through a side door, facing out onto the memorial garden. My heart breaks again as I spot my baby boys plaque, with a space next to it ready for his father.

Your mother gently touches her grandsons plaque as we pass. I feel sick to my stomach. Everyone is heading to the wake, but I can't face it.

Why, Max? I can't imagine going through life without you. You're my other half, my soulmate. I don't want to carry on without you.

*************

Epilogue- Five Years Later...

I smile as George and Laurie race through the living room, chasing each other out into the garden.

My grief consumed me for a long time. There were many times where I thought about joining you in death. The three of us reunited.

My parents sold off all of our sons baby things, helping me to move on. Your parents helped me to pack up your things; deciding what I wanted to keep.

There are photos of you and our son scattered around my new home. I had to make a fresh start, but I still wanted you to be part of my life. I talk about you both with George and Laurie. They know they have a big brother and 'Daddy Max', who aren't with us anymore.

They love you, without having ever met you. You would be so proud of them. Just as their 'Daddy Henry' is.

I didn't think I'd ever be able to fall in love again. I thought my heart was broken into too many pieces. Then two years ago, I met Henry at a computer course I was going to. I had a vague idea of something I wanted to set up in your name, but I lacked the technical expertise to pull it off.

Henry helped me put together 'A Mission For Max'. An online forum for people who have been affected by suicide. It has really taken off, becoming my full time job. I also travel around, giving talks to people and couples experiencing difficulties after losing a child.

You mum recently qualified as a councillor, joining our team, available 24/7 to those who need to talk.

A year before I met Henry, I decided I wanted a family. But I couldn't bear the thought of carrying another man's child inside me. I couldn't go through the risk of another miscarriage either, so I applied to an adoption agency.

I spoke to my parents and yours, wanting them to be involved too. They were all supportive of my plans and grateful I think, to have a second chance at being grandparents.

Soon I was contacted by the agency about a brother and sister they were looking to home. George was 5 and his sister Laurie was 3. They had been in care for 18 months and were keen to find someone who would take them both on.

As soon as I met them, I knew I would be taking them home. The first thing I noticed was George's mop of untidy black hair. My breath caught in my chest, taking me back instantly to the day we first met. He was so quiet and nervous. Painfully shy.

Laurie was a pink, giggling whirlwind! A bundle of glittery, girly energy. She took my hand straight away, leading me around the room to show me things. Her eyes a beautiful shade of blue.

I wanted to take them home with me that day, but the paperwork took almost two months.

I took your mum and my mum shopping; helping me pick out bedding, clothes, toys and books, ready for when they finally came home. We worked together to get the house ready for two small children.

I haven't looked back. They are so loved by both of our families, as well as Henry's.

I would give anything to have you and our son back, just for a moment. To hold you, kiss you, tell you both that I love you. But if I hadn't lost you, I wouldn't be where I am now.

You will always be my soulmate Max, until the end of time. You and our son were just too perfect for this world. All my love, forever. x