'I hadn't spoken to my ex in years. Then came the text that he'd died.'

When a family member or close friend dies, you're suddenly left with a gaping hole in your life and your heart. And usually, there are people around you who understand, who guide you through the grief and help you pick up the pieces.

But what about when it's an ex? The person you once loved, shared months or even years with, but no longer has a place beside you.

The sadness is overwhelming, but so is the uncertainty. There's no roadmap to this often unspoken type of grief. No Hallmark cards or casseroles from neighbours. Just one looming question.

Do you still have the right to grieve them?

For Simon Mummé, the answer came crashing down on an ordinary day in February.

Simon was working from home when his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "James has passed away."

It took a moment to register who it was, but when it clicked it was the parents of his ex-boyfriend James, Simon's world stood still.

Watch: How to deal with loss or grief of loved ones. Post continues below.

Simon and James were together for seven years and shared a beautiful, blossoming love.

"We had a great life. We bought our first home together. We renovated. We got our first fur baby together… we just built a full life together and had a lot of those big milestones which I look back with great memories of."

But when that chapter ended, Simon cut ties and moved on.

Receiving the text message "absolutely threw me", he told Mamamia.

"I remember just walking around the coffee table for about half an hour going, 'What is this?'"

As his mind raced, Simon stewed anxiously over what to do.

"It was a collision of what am I allowed to feel here … a loss of someone that is not in your life — am I allowed to feel this past love and how can I communicate that," Simon recalled.

"It was this world of unknown straight away."

Grieving an ex is a form of disenfranchised grief — grief that goes unacknowledged by social norms. It brings confusing feelings that, in most cases, no one ever prepares for.

Simon disappeared, swallowed by grief.

"I remember the next day I just walked from sunrise to sunset. I just had something physical to get out of my body," he recalled.

"I had people trying to contact me and checking in and I just I pushed it all away because I wasn't sure what was happening and what I was allowed to feel.

"It took me a long time to realise that what I was feeling was valid."

Simon and the dog he shared with James. Image: Supplied.

About a week later, he finally started letting people in — it's something he wishes he'd done sooner.

"Communicating with my partner and colleagues and family and James' family just really started a better process," Simon said.

Working in the funeral industry at Candour Funerals, Simon knows more than most just how differently grief affects everyone. Yet his journey still took him by surprise.

One day, he'd feel better. The next, he'd see the dog he shared with James or go through old photos with James's parents for the funeral service and break down all over again.

"I still look back, going, what a roller coaster. I don't think I could put in clear words or writing about what that looked like," Simon said.

Simon's advice to others is: rely on your support network. Image: Supplied.

Seeing James's parents again was bittersweet. They were people who got it, and knew Simon from his time with James, but were also reminders of James's death.

"That was hard because, as I talked about, I close chapters, so here it is flung open and reliving these beautiful moments and memories and great relationship that ended and had its moment," he said.

"Nothing prepares you when there's no lead-up time for death and for people just getting a text message like that. It was a bouncing around the room experience because I loved living those moments of sharing with his parents and photos and all of that, but you've just lost someone as well."

Simon's current partner made the space he needed to mourn James.

"To acknowledge that it's okay to feel the love that I'm living currently with my partner now, but still hold on to the love that's still current — that love of an ex with James is still current," he said.

It's a balancing act of knowing "love looks different every time, and it doesn't stop" — Simon says this was his biggest learning.

"Yes, I've closed things in my life, but actually the love for an ex is still there, and you still hold on to it, and it's still beautiful," he said. "Making that realisation with my current partner that it's okay to have lived those memories and that makes you who you are today — those memories, those moments.

"Without James, you wouldn't be the person living in this new relationship, this new partnership, this new love.

"It doesn't stop, it looks different. It feels different. Love is bigger than I thought."

Simon's situation was unique. As a funeral organiser, he was asked by James's parents to help organise the ceremony. It meant he needed to push his grief down to help them get through the day.

"It really did take me some time after the funeral service because I had to just push it all down to get through the funeral," he said.

"It was tough pushing it down. And I remember standing there literally physically doing this movement, like pushing down to just go, don't feel this yet.

"It wasn't until I sort of found some time in nature and some space afterwards that I could do a bit more healing."

For anyone who finds themselves in the unfortunate place of grieving an ex, Simon's advice is simple: "Find your tribe."

"It may not be your current partner. It could be another family member, another friend, a colleague, but reach out to them. Because your tribe is there to help you to acknowledge whatever you're feeling is valid," he said.

"It is okay, and it's a journey that keeps going. Whatever you're feeling will be your story."

Feature image: Supplied.