Loss is what happens to someone when you die. Paul's death left me incomplete. It tore something out of me and I will never be the same again. I'm not whole and the hole won't close. I've held onto to some things, but much of me is gone.
All loss is shit, suicide loss is the worst shit.
Losing a kid to suicide is off the frigging shit scale. I got madder as I realized that my son's death didn't have to be. After I learned that those who could have prevented it didn't care came rage. My anger has stopped growing but it hasn't gotten any less intense. It never will.