We got married in 2008.  We went through so much (medically for him); I remember thinking that maybe I wouldn't be able to stay; but then just thinking of how he might have been feeling made forget about how I was feeling, and I stayed, and I was the best wife I could be.  After having gone through something (medical) at least once each year; 2014 was looking ok; maybe our "normal".  We went on vacation to the beach in September; and because he had difficulty walking; we couldn't go walking by the beach; or into the ocean.  It was like I was on a vacation by myself, but had company for meals and in my room.  I wanted more, I started to feel like I wanted us to do more.  I always tried to push him to do more.   I start to feel impatient, and just wanting that he would be more interested in having a better life; but he was ok as he was.  I was also feeling a lot of financial burden; and felt that I couldn't handle it anymore.  I wanted a life like everyone else.  Except for cooking and paying the bills online; I had to do everything else at home; stuff that guys do; I had to do it all.  Take out the trash, carry the heavy stuff; brining the groceries to the kitchen. I work full time; he went into disability in 2009. I wanted a normal life with him; but he was ok; walking with a cane (for a few years he had to use a walker). Having a disabled plaque for parking.  He was ok, and he wasn't doing anything else to get better, as much as I wanted and asked him to.  Then I started realizing that, that wasn't the life I wanted for myself.  It was the most difficult decision I had to make; I asked for a divorce.  He agreed. We get officially divorced in Dec 2015; but we are still living together, because we need to sell the house.  The house didn't seel until February of 2016.  That's when we split. But we were talking, we were in good terms. I wanted to make sure he was ok.  I loved him; I just wasn't in love with him anymore.  And then, one day, his brother calls me and asks me if I know anything.  I hadn't spoken with him for a couple of days; I was at a work event.  I knew where he lived; I helped him move.  I called the police of the town where he lived; they went to his apartment.  They found him dead.  He was dead.  He died alone. I wasn't with him. I know that I didn't want to be with him; but his death is hurting so bad.  I cannot imagine not seeing him or talking to him again.  I wish I could dream about him; I haven't.  I don't know what to do, sometimes I think I'm ok; but I'm not.  I cry a lot. I miss him too much.  I want to get out of this; I want to go on with my life; but I just can't. I don't know what to do.