What kind of heart doesn't look back?

I feel like I can't catch my breath.
The wind has been knocked out of me. It hurts.
So bad.
And here I am, left here to crawl my way out of this.
It's been months.
We don't talk about it.
Partly because all it does is bring back every ounce of searing, blinding pain. Partly because it's self preservation- if we don't talk about it-if we don't talk about him, we can move past it.
We can move on.
Pretending those two years didn't happen is easier than living in the reality that they did. That he had us all fooled and that his pain overwhelmed him. The hatred he allowed himself to feel overtook him.
He ended his own life at the hands of a million lies.
It's not fair.
I still find myself searching for a reason to believe its not true.
I do ok most days.
It's the worst at night. I hear a song. Think of something to tell him. Find out about something I know he would like. And it's like a swift punch in my gut. My breath is gone again. I remember. The phone call. The moment my world stopped spinning. The defiance. The unbelief. The pleading. My broken heart. In those dark quiet hours of remembrance- it still bleeds. But even though it's painful I still want to remember. I want to relish in every moment of happiness we shared. Every single argument we had. All the inside jokes. All the good and all the not so good. There are so many memories together. Those memories are the only thing left. They are the only thing we can hold on to that proves he was here.
I wish I would've called. I wish I would've [could've] stopped this.
But what had been decided had already been set into motion & he had every opportunity for it to not be like this.
The pain was too strong.
The hurt was overwhelming.
His shame consumed him.
He felt like it was too much.
He felt like this was his only choice. That's the part that unhinges me every time- he was convinced he had no other option.
Suicide- I haven't figured out how I feel about it. I used to think it was an automatic sentence to damnation.
Now I'm not so sure.
Actually I'm not sure at all.
God is a forgiving God.
He is just & merciful.
I just don't know.
The questions swirl around in my head a thousand times a day. I don't know what to do with them. The questions I have will never have answers. The person that could give them to me made sure that I would never get them.
This entire experience makes me want to not ever let my guard down. It makes me want to seal my heart and my love away in a dark tiny crevice of myself and never let it out. If I could get away with it I would totally shut myself off from everyone. But the people in my life love me too much to let me do that.
Love- that's the thing- I let myself love him. Now I can't let go. Regardless of if he loved me the same way or not-he still loved me and he let me in as far as he let anyone in.
So many conversations, so much time. Now it's just gone.
Gone.
He's just gone.
There's nothing special, or romantic, or redeeming about it.
Just gone.
And here I am not even able to breathe... I just hope someday I'll breathe again.