I met my husband in 2006. (I'll refer to him as "J") He was in a band and some of my friends wanted me to go watch them practice. I started going to their practices fairly regularly. We were both dating other people at that time but there were plenty of stolen glances from across the room. In January of '07 his sister committed suicide. After that, band practice became more of a drunk fest than anything else. We had lots of fun, that's for sure. Those stolen glances started to progress into secretly flirting. Then in November of that year, my brother also took his own life. J was the only one I knew that had gone through something like that, so I called him. I told him what had happened and he said he'd be there as soon as he could. (He was out of town playing a show.) The next morning I heard a knock at my door and it was him. We sat and talked and cried together for hours until we fell asleep in each others arms. I awoke the next morning in a panic because I had just spent an entire night cuddling with a man that had a girlfriend. When I told him how wrong I felt for doing that, he said "as soon as we got off the phone yesterday, I called my girlfriend and broke up with her. I knew that the minute I walked through your door I was going to fall madly in love with you." I practically melted into a puddle at his feet. We got married in May of '09. Over the next few years, we had a lot of ups and downs but at the end of the day we were deeply in love with each other. We had a daughter in April of '12 and I really hoped that she would be the motivation for him to quit drinking. I thought he had. Then I started finding empty vodka bottles hidden in various places. I confronted him about it several times and he would always say they were from before. I finally got tired of it and in October of '13 i told him we needed to take some time apart. We went to a few counseling sessions and I really thought we were getting somewhere. Then there would be times where he would call or text me and say he was never coming back, we were over. The next day he'd call and apologize and say he wanted to come home. On January 3rd he was supposed to come pick up our daughter. When he pulled up to the house my babysitter was here picking up her money. He called and said "I didn't realize you had company, I'll just go somewhere else." He was acting really strange. He left but then pulled up again about 15 minutes later. By that time I was getting irritated with him. He called me again and I said "what are you doing out in front of the house again?" He said "well, I guess nothing", then took off down the road. I was worried about what was going to happen next so I called the police and told them what was going on. By the time they got here, J's truck had been reported in the ditch outside of town but he wasn't in it. With the wind chill it was about -40 that night. Never once did it cross my mind that he could be in danger. I was sure he had called a friend and was just ignoring everyone because he was mad. Even when the snowmobile search and rescue team was called in, I was sure he was somewhere hiding from everyone. At 4 o'clock am on January 4th, I got the call from the county coroner saying J had died from hypothermia. The days, weeks, and months that have passed since then are mostly a blur. I feel like the pain is all I have left to hold on to. The guilt of not telling him to just come inside is unbearable at times. I feel like the pain is my punishment to endure for the rest of my days. The battle inside of me between moving on with my life and holding onto the pain and guilt is overwhelming. I know this is really long and if you've read this far, I appreciate it. I haven't been able to tell anyone how I really feel and I figured this would be a great place to do so.