Hi there, you told me to write to you when things have happened. Well, here it goes. (This is an email I had written my therapist a year after I had received treatment from her.)

💔 The Hardest Thing I’ve Had to Write

My worries and fear that I had about my boss Kevin happened, he had a massive heart attack on August 5th, 2017. He died instantly. I grieved so hard that it brought on shingles. It was such a difficult time, but eventually, I came to accept it.

That same year, in December, my company was bought out by an investor. We went from a close-knit, family-oriented business to a full-blown corporate structure. They treat us well, but I’m just… overwhelmed. Busy beyond belief.

Not long ago, I went to a Hall & Oates concert, and out of nowhere—I had a flashback of my dad playing the trumpet. It only lasted a second, but it hit me hard. I felt this sudden wave of sadness, almost like a wave pulling me under.

I recently uploaded a blog post called “I Plead the 5th.” There’s a strange pattern in my life that I hadn’t noticed until now. All the important people I’ve lost passed away on the 5th of a month:

My boss: August 5th
My dad: October 5th
A childhood friend: March 5th
My sister’s mother-in-law: May 5th

It’s eerie.

And then there’s Bill. I keep seeing him in traffic—smirking, pretending like nothing ever happened. Like, “Hey, look at me. I treated you like crap, but I want you to notice I’m still here.” I ignore him. My body doesn’t shake as much as it used to, so that’s something.

But on July 2nd, I saw him again. That same evening, I heard a knock on my door… and it was him.

The moment I’ve feared for so long—he was at my doorstep.

I didn’t let him in. And I’m so proud of that.

He said he was just stopping by to offer condolences about my dad and my boss. I could tell he was nervous. I was surprisingly calm. We talked about our kids for a bit, and then he left after about 10 minutes.

After he left, I felt so angry. Why was I even nice to him? Why didn’t I ask if his wife knew where he was? What would she think of him standing on my porch?

I have a strong feeling he’ll be back. But next time, I won’t be caught off guard. On my drive home, I passed by his mom’s house—he was there. Since then, I’ve found myself looking out the window, wondering if he’ll show up again. And honestly, I hate that I’m doing that.

Why did he knock on my door? Is he unhappy and trying to make peace? I don’t think so. It took guts to knock, but I’ll never go back to that man. Ever.

My family was upset when I told them. They were like, “That’s so crazy,” but they support me, and that means everything.

On a brighter note: I finally live on my own. It’s been a little over a year now. After years of roommates, I finally feel free to be 100% myself. I’ve been working on myself, discovering who I really am—and I love that. I wish I had done it years ago.

I still enjoy my wine (don’t get me wrong), but I’ve slowed way down. No more shots. Just sipping and peace.

So, there you have it.