I don't know what to say. So I decided to say nothing at all. I trust that you, in your deep grief and depression, are willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. That you can just step outside of yourself for a minute. I'm not not talking to you because I don't love you. I'm not not talking to you because I don't miss your (is it ok if I say this? I mean, maybe you've forgotten? maybe you're having a nice happy day and you've moved on? I sure don't want to remind you, that, you know, you have a) dead son. It's just that I feel really awkward. And I figured that, rather than say anything that might make you cry, because that would make me really uncomfortable, I'd just not say anything. I'm here for you when you need me, you just need to ask. It's not that hard. I mean, I can't think of anything nice to say or do, but it's not like you couldn't ask me. That's totally not an empty offer. I'll do anything you want, except, you know, talk to you. Or listen to you. Or reach out to you. Unless you directly tell me to. I haven't abandoned you. I'm just waiting for you to come to me.
You're so strong. I could never cope as well as you are. I'd be a wreck, because I can't imagine my life without my kid. But you're doing just fine, I can tell since you haven't asked for help.
Anyway, let's chat sometime. You schedule it, k? Hope you have a good therapist!
I sure do love you!
Your email, text messages, and Facebook.
(No really. I've gotten four versions of this just today alone. Guess what? Maybe not saying anything makes you feel better but it doesn't make me feel a damn thing except alone. But don't worry, I barely notice your absence, since my whole life is a void.)