My Own Distinct Voice

Guilt is hard to let go. After Dan died, I couldn't stop thinking about all I could have done. I should have called his doctor when he was feeling strange a few months before he died. I should have known he was a month late for his annual exam. I should have known that something wasn't right.

Seven years later, I still struggle to let go of these feelings. Dan and I became so enmeshed during our relationship that it often felt like we were the same person. We're both script writers, and our career goals were similar. But I wrote plays—family dramas—and Dan wrote screenplays—broad comedies. I moved to LA to be with Dan. I went to grad school in LA so that we could be in the same city for the first time in our relationship. Dan died three months after I moved.

To feel closer to Dan after he died, I decided to pursue comedy writing too. I remember the audience's laughter from my first 10-minute comedic play. People congratulated me afterwards and said, "I never knew you were funny!" Six months after Dan's death I responded, "Oh well, that was Dan." Yet somehow, by embracing something that I saw as Dan's—his comedic voice—I developed my own distinct voice.

It is hard to consider that my comedic plays were my own rather than Dan’s. I would say that he was guiding me, like a guardian angel speaking through my plays, helping me succeed. But it’s also important to recognize my own abilities, despite my growing survivor's guilt. I write these scripts on my own, and accepting that is important, because it means accepting that I have an identity of my own, outside of Dan.

Last year, I signed a contract to write a film—a broad comedy—with a production company in New York, where I now live. I was incredibly excited about this accomplishment, and it was difficult knowing that Dan never lived long enough to do the same thing. But I cannot stop writing. I must continue living my own life, and embrace the importance of that. Dan would have wanted that. I can finally say that I want it too, and that matters just as much.