““I thought of buying a gun and going to our cemetery plot and shooting myself in the chest. All of it I knew would make the local news – former TV reporter and anchor found dead from apparent suicide.””
NOTE: This is an excerpt from the upcoming Sidney Alvarez self-help book Your Soulmate Has an Expiration—And That's OK.
I want to begin by saying I know you are in pain and you’re not alone. The pain is real, and you will cry day in and day out. Night time is the worst, the silence, the quiet realization that he left you. That all the love you gave him was just not good enough. You will look around the room and picture where he once stood, or search for any reminder of his existence, your wedding ring, his pictures, or perhaps a shirt or two that he accidently left behind. I personally clung to the gold cross necklace that he gave me a year into our relationship.
I prayed, but I wasn’t heard. And just for your knowledge, that cross necklace is now in the Hudson River. Not by my hand, but by the hand of my replacement. The other guy he left me for after twenty-three years together. That delicate necklace, flushed down the toilet in New York City.
You will lay in your bed, just like me, wishing you were dead. Trying to figure out how to actually do it. I imagined taking all my HIV pills and hoping I could just go to sleep and never wake up (unfortunately I did this, and thankfully I survived to share this with you, but you’ll hear more of this in my tale). I also thought of getting in my car and driving into a street pole or overpass on the Border freeway — strangely I pictured it happening on the Fonseca exit. Last, I thought of buying a gun and going to our cemetery plot and shooting myself in the chest. All of it I knew would make the local news – former TV reporter and anchor found dead from apparent suicide.
In reality I was just a crushed soul and a broken heart.
I understand how you feel and by sharing my pain with you, I hope I can help you. I want you to avoid my pitfalls and to learn to love yourself. It was just me and Ray for 23-years, we both isolated ourselves from friends and family, because our energy was directed to each other. I loved it, my focus was on him, on us. He was the one I wanted to experience everything with—a joke, a movie, a Broadway show, shopping in Chelsea, traveling, or just watching TV at home together. He’s the first person I told when I was going to be on camera or tape a segment. His opinion and validation were all that mattered when it aired. When I was scared he protected me, or confused, he enlightened me. He was everything, the blood running through my veins, the light in my darkness, the reason for my smile – he was my soulmate.
So, you will understand, when I say there was no one to turn to. He left me, ran away from me, erased me and disposed of me. Oh, I knew many people and they knew me, but true friends? A very small handful, one or two in fact.
He was my best friend. With him gone, I had no friends, no friends I could trust or cry to. Well, I take it back, I had friends that were just a phone call away, but not in the same city. Honestly, I needed to feel someone’s touch—an embrace, a shoulder to cry on, someone to hold me and ask me how I feel. My family never asked how I feel, that is, until I brought it to their attention and ask why the fuck don’t you inquire how I feel? Three simple words is what I needed, “How are you?”
It’s been explained to me that my immediate family members are scared of me and didn’t want to say anything. Can you believe that bullshit? You’re with someone for 23-years and your family members can’t even reach out to you and say we are sorry for your pain –how can we help you?
Perhaps hold your hand, or just sit in the same room with you and let you know you will be ok? I could understand if I was an asshole, but I genuinely tried to help my parents, and my sister and her husband and their children. I racked up credit card debt flying my two nephews and niece from El Paso to Pittsburgh or New York City, year after year. Spoiling them with gifts and experiences that I never had as a child. Helping them get a car, repairs, bailing them from impoundments. Singing lessons, museums, concerts, movies, trips to Canada. All that New York City could offer year after year. And more importantly I gave them my unconditional love, always encouraging them, and desperately trying to be a good role model.
I never did drugs, don’t even know how to light a cigarette. Always respected the law and emphasized the importance of an education. You would think this would have been motivation enough for someone to pick up the phone and ask, “How are you Sidney?” or “Uncle Sidney are you ok?”
It wasn’t.
I asked my sister to have lunch or dinner with me for two straight months after Ray left me. She said she was too busy or too tired to meet, and when she finally did, she brought along her 15-year-old son because they could go Christmas shopping at the Fountains after our one-hour lunch. Yes, let me spill my adult pain and turmoil to you and my 15-year-old nephew.
Let me talk about sex and betrayal, let me talk about his wife and how I’ve been the mistress for 23 years. Let me talk about what a huge failure I am. Let me talk about how I see no hope. Let me talk about the antidepressant drugs the doctors have given me and how they make my dick not work. Let me talk about my most personal insecurities and the vulgarities of my life that have caused me to be erased. Let me talk about how I’m three seconds away from grabbing the meat knife on the table in the restaurant and just gutting my own neck. You selfish bitch, you can’t even extend an hour to me. And it wasn’t like you ever pay for anything anyway, lunch and dinner are always on me.
Our lunch meeting was in December. We meet again in March, after my continued pleas for her to meet me for lunch or dinner, but by then it was too late. She texts me and I quote: “I don’t know how to help you; besides I have my own family to think about.”
That night I tried to kill myself. It wasn’t the first time, I tried it the month before our lunch.
This is why I am writing to you now, I don’t want you to think you are alone. You’re not alone. You will get through this and you will learn from my mistakes and understand yours. No matter why your relationship ended, no matter whose fault it is, this is about how you will evolve. You will learn to forgive him and more importantly, yourself. It will not be a quick fix, it will not be overnight. In fact, I still pause now and then, I have regret, there is a sigh, and then I smile because I hope Ray is happy.
We can all learn to move forward, shakenly at first, but still moving forward. I share with you what happened to me, with a series of short stories, poems, letters and reflections of my experiences. I break it down to nine tips to help you not make the same mistakes I did, and to give you the strength to value your life and to love yourself above all. You will cry with me on this journey. Perhaps even judge me for the selfishness I embody. Reasons to this day that I still don’t understand why my actions and decisions went a certain way.
I will also warn you, I am the villain in my story. I give myself this label because I gave him the reasons to leave me. I will not sway you from love, in fact I want you to not give up on it. Love is our most powerful gift. Yes, in my case, my soulmate has an expiration, and that’s okay. I’m hear for you, so let’s overcome together.
So, let’s pretend we work in television news and we are about to go live on the air. My camera guy would hand me the mic, say standby, and then hold up their hand to signal me to go on. They would cue me – three, two, one.
Now here’s my cue to you. Ready, three, two, one . . .
