Three years, 4 months and 6 days ago I was curled up in the couch with the man I'd loved since I was 20 years old. We'd had a long term relationship for 4 years and life had pushed us apart back then. But 13 years later we'd reunited and found the fire was still there, stronger even, at first sight. I had just had the courage to leave an extremely abuse narcissistic relationship after 6 years and he'd just been suddenly thrown out by the woman he'd loved and lived with for the past 11 years. My ex had been stalking me for the previous 4 months, and despite filing police reports, getting a restraining order and him violating it repeatedly with ample evidence, the local pd/sheriff did nothing. He'd been a county officer and they protected him because his daddy gave large donations to the division. At 8:52pm on Friday, January 13th 2017, my doorbell rang repeatedly. Looking through the peephole no one was there and the porch light was out. The 5th time it happened, my love yanked open the door and was greeted by a dark figure in a hoodie holding a .45. He slammed the door shut as 2 rounds went through my front door, missing his head by millimetres. I ran for my phone and dialed 911 and my love was going for the house security pad in the hall when another shot went through the front window, hitting him in the side. He started dragging himself from the hallway to the kitchen add I screamed at the 911 operator my address and " active shooter hurry " only to have her tell me 'calm down'. He climbed through the broken glass of the front window and it was as he walked past me I saw it was my ex. He looked at me as he walked into the kitchen and my blood went cold. I dropped to my knees and couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I could only watch as he put the remaining 7 rounds in the magazine into my loves head and back as he lay on the tile floor, bleeding profusely from the shot he'd taken to his spleen. My ex then calmly reloaded as I shook on the living room floor and he held the gun 1" from my head and began rambling and babbling about how I had destroyed his and his sons lives because I'd left him for a jobless piece of shit (despite the fact I'd kicked him out 2 weeks before I'd reunited with my love). It wasn't until we heard sirens approaching that his face changed. He looked at me with profound sorrow, as he placed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I had blow back all over me. The CSI techs pulled brain and skull fragments out of my hair. The police questioned me for 10 hours. I was tested for GSR, and was grilled about my relationship with both of the deceased from 10pm to 8am the next morning. I was let out of a police cruiser in the middle of my street when they couldn't find a way to charge me with something. My house was torn apart, my 3 dogs taken and put in the pound (to include my service dog) and my cats had skattered around the neighborhood because they left all my doors and windows open. I wasn't allowed to say goodbye. My loves family blamed me for his murder because I'd asked him to stay with me because I was afraid of my ex. I was 3 days from getting my shotgun after the purchasing waiting period... It's all my fault. If I'd been braver and stayed in my own, it would have just been me who died. Maybe my ex would have still taken his own life but I know my love would still be alive for his daughters. His best friend wouldn't be hooked on IV opiates to dull the pain of losing his platonic life partner since age 3. I wouldn't be sitting here, unscathed yet with a broken and bleeding heart that will never be repaired. He was more than soul mate. He was my twin flame and I can't move on no matter what therapy I go to, meds I take or therapists I talk to. It's like my very heart and soul were ripped out that night and thrown into the deepest abyss imaginable.