My fiancé and I died on that same day. I just didn’t stop breathing.

My fiancé (40 years old) and I (34 years old) were planning to get married this year and have 10 babies. He was the kindest and faithful man I knew. We planned to live in the Philippines for several years to keep him clean. He was on methadone treatment after 20 years of abusing heroin. He was a very smart, functioning user. He even passed the bar last year and stayed humble. He decided to go cold turkey on 5 mg and reassured me it was safe. After 2.4 years of waiting and dose monitoring, he finally went to the Philippines in April and was ready to start a new life with me. But after a few weeks of being sick and tired of the withdrawal, he confessed to me that he couldn't stop using and that I had to live with it. I was shocked, as I thought we were on the road to recovery. I tried to convince him to get help, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He said he tried everything but really never succeeded in quitting and that he was helpless. He told me he needed to go back to the US as he can’t work here during the night, and he'd just come back in July. I begged him to stay and asked him to just resign from his job, and I would just work for us, as our main priority is to get him clean, and because I knew he would just go back there to use again, since he’s obviously already dependent on it. He ended up flying back to the US, and 4 days after he got there, he OD’d and died. And just like that, all gone. So what’s the point of living now? Not to mention, I just lost my 13-year-old dog last year.