In the beginning, our love was magical. The chemistry was amazing. We cliqued as if we had known each other all of our lives. He had been single all of his life and I had been single for over a decade. He told me he felt whole for the first time in his life and now knew what he had been missing all along. His void was filled and so was mine. We were in bliss for about a year before his depression came back. He said depression was something he had dealt with off and on his whole life. He insisted that it was something he needed to work out alone because and didn’t want to drag me down with him. He said he was broken. I tried to talk him into staying in the spare room and promised to give him space, but he wanted to be completely alone in a dark cold hotel room ¼ mile from our home. For the first 6 months, we kept in touch daily through text messages, emails and phone calls. After 6 months, I decided I better start thinking about moving on with my life. I wasn’t getting any younger and had lost ½ year of my life having a relationship by text. I felt pulling back would force him to make a decision as to what he wanted to do with his life. You don’t know what you want until its gone, right. 6 months is a long time to be on standby and I think most women would have cut ties after a month or two. My plan backfired and now he is gone forever. He shot himself in that hotel room on May 13, 2014. Now I will carry this guilt for the rest of my life for not having done more to save him.