Three years ago today I married the man of my dreams in a tiny little registry office room at the Civic Centre in Newcastle. We had only two friends to witness and some friends came to help us celebrate afterwards. One of my sisters was expecting a baby and so was one of my best friends and could not attend. As far as weddings go I was very much for the quickest ceremony and a low key day. All that mattered was that simplest of things between two people, that fun shared everyday, that no big deal but this is everything feeling.

Three years ago sounds like a short marriage, right?

I first met my husband in the local post office years ago – we didn’t speak but it was the first time of acknowledgement. He was holding up the queue with a great big bag of eBay post, (he ran the UK’s largest online vintage mens clothing store), but in the early days did all the posting himself. We didn’t meet officially until the latter part of 2011. We started working together in February 2012 and seeing each other in September 2012. We married on 15th April 2013. Strictly on a soul level he was and remains the man of my dreams.

I talk about soul level because the marriage was not a fairytale. It didn’t work out the way I for one had intended it to. If it had I would not be here writing this. I think about what we would be doing today and I have to go right back to 2013 in order to find the husband I identify with. It turns out he had cyclothymia and mostly wanted to treat it himself. He was strong but hurting and in grief also. For his own peace I forgive him but for my own selfishness and for the sake of the children forever a hole in our lives. Suicide touches many but still has stigma. I explain it to my daughter in the simplest of terms that only a 12 year old in this digital age can understand. Someone gets so anxious and sick of being on Facebook / Instagram / Snapchat (insert whatever social media site) that one night they just don’t want to see it anymore but they know they can’t stop logging in so they deactivate their account. Only the next day they realise they have deleted their account and now they can’t get it back. (yes I know almost never happens in the land of social media but got to have an analogy somewhere!). So the person has to live in social media limbo or start a new account with new people. There are choices but unfortunately the one thing you can’t do is log back in as you were.

Luke is my first waking thought, my last waking thought and at the back of every other thought I have. Every morning I open my eyes and look over to my wardrobe rail to check if the velvet burgundy bag is there. Unfortunately no day comes when I’ve imagined or dreamt that bag. Rest in peace Luke Tanner you are missed and loved as always XxX

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