After two separate psychics telling me the same things…and of course the countless hours of therapy… I’ve accepted the fact that Eddie’s death had nothing to do with me and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

Honestly, I was never one to truly believe in psychics, but in the past 7 months I’ve found myself doing things I never thought I’d do. So go see a psychic? Why the hell not? Go see a second because I’m still skeptical? Well, of course!

So glad I did… a huge weight had been lifted. I had stopped running it over and over in my head wondering, “what if”. For the first time, I was at peace with the fact that I had no role in it. HE made the choice not to get help. HE chose that path. HE took his life.

The brick on my chest, making it impossible to take a deep breath was finally gone. I really was going to be okay.