I had no idea.

I had a wonderful childhood. I was a stable adult. There were hurdles in life, such as being in a ridiculously toxic relationship with my ex-boyfriend, but other than that, things were going pretty well. I liked my job, had a good circle of friends, plenty of healthy hobbies, etc.

Then I got arrested. No sugar coating it, I did it, I was wrong, I accepted my sentence without fuss.

Spending 7 years in prison brought on sporadic waves of depression, but generally my outlook was positive. There were things to be improved in my life. I made close friendships, and we watched out for each other. I shared my knowledge with other inmates, did what I could to make everyone's government-sponsored stay as easy as possible.

Then I met him. I swore I didn't want a "prison relationship" because it'd just be toxic and based on rampant emotions and loneliness. But...he was wonderful. Smart, intelligent, witty, funny, engaging to talk to, so many similar hobbies and interests.

We dated for two years while incarcerated, as much as you can "date" while surrounded by 1500 other people. We grew to be inseparable, and talked frequently about building a life together after our incarceration. There were ups and downs, but generally, I have nothing but happy memories from that period of my life, even though I was in prison.

My release date was 2 years before his. We were both 100% ready to wait it out, and I'd be there on his release with open arms to start our new life together.

We were going to change the world.

I changed my release address to his hometown, so we could live together. I rearranged my entire life for him, because he was the one. He was my soulmate. There was no doubt in my mind. The universe had brought us together.

The problems began immediately after my release. A standard condition for probation in federal cases is to not be allowed any contact with other felons for any reason without permission. I explained to my probation officer, day one, about my boyfriend and how I felt about him and the nature of our relationship. I explained how much we were each other's support through such a dark period, and we were going to have a bright future.

I got a noncommittal response. I figured, it's fine, this officer doesn't know me yet. He'll get to realize that I'm no longer dangerous, and I'm ready to just move on in life. I have two years to prove it to him.

So I stayed full of hope. Immediately got a good job, found a good church, made new friends. Everything was powered by that end goal: to see him again.

He wrote to other people, who passed on the information to me, and vice versa, so we could stay in touch. Even separated, I was so in love with him, and he with me. It flowed through every message he sent. We got each other gifts for birthdays, and the anniversary of our first "I love you".

I was very social, all with probation's blessing, and demonstrated all the goals they look for in released inmates: stable work, stable family, stable friends, stable home. Ticked all the boxes, followed all the rules.

But then the day came for my boyfriend to be released.

I treated it like any other, and went to finally ask permission to help him moving forward. His home situation was very complicated, a single mother who couldn't support him, he would have to live with his half-sister that he didn't know very well, who had financial troubles of her own.

I had been saving money over 2 years for this moment, surely I was the better option. We were going to get married, live happily ever after.

"You are not authorized to see him for any reason, or to attempt to communicate with him in any way. Doing so will count as a violation of your terms of supervision."

I suggested supervised visits, I tried joint visits with a court-selected therapist, I tried 3rd party letters that could be screened beforehand, just to get an inch now to set up future success.

Probation said no, on every count. If I did any of that, I was going back to jail.

Just...

But...

Why...

That was months ago.

"Stop bothering us with this boyfriend crap. As long as you are on supervision, it is never going to happen, period, end of statement."

That's what broke me.

Absolutely shattered my reality into pieces.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do going forward.

Nothing seems to matter anymore. All my hobbies have fallen away, because none of them bring me joy. My friends have all been supportive, but I've noticed they've been pulling away. I know it's because I'm just sucking the fun out of everything.

There's just nothing to be happy about anymore.

When I was arrested, I was dropped into the middle of an emotional ocean. I met my boyfriend, and he became a lighthouse that I'd spent 4 years swimming towards. I had a goal, and it was beautiful, and it made me happy.

And then, with a simple "yes/no" decision, the lighthouse disappeared. Now it's just ocean in every direction, and I don't know where to go.

If they'd killed him, they could not have hurt me any worse. To spend 4 years of your life building everything on a bright future, then to have it waved away on a "technicality," I didn't know how to process it.

I still don't.

Some days I'm okay, and I can joke and laugh. Other days I'm just a wreck. Most nights I cry about it. Some days I'm just inconsolable, and I just cry all day.

As somebody who always looked down on people who suffered with chronic depression, I am so sorry. I was so horribly wrong. And going through this: it's awful.

You want to scream for people to wake up and see that you're hurting, and at the same time you just want everyone to go away.

You don't want to do anything, but you know if you just sit around at home, you're going to be plunged into even deeper sadness.

This feeling is unbelievably powerful and debilitating.

I really don't know if I'll ever get past it. Not just for me, but also for him. I have absolutely no way to tell him I love him without going back to prison. I can't even tell him it's going to be okay. I don't know if he's happy or sad or depressed, I just don't know, and I can't know.

He lives 3 miles away from me, right now. I wonder if he thinks about me as much as I think about him.

It's the farthest fucking three miles ever.

What do you even do in the face of such cruelty? How do you move forward? I have no answers.