We are supposed to be in Greece. Together. Right now. Instead, I’m home with anxiety and NorCal’s finest medicine keeping me from freaking out because my boyfriend is dead. We knew each other 29 years and we only had one year and a week together. That just can’t be right. It can’t. Why is he dead?
Thank god you had that amazing year, they say. He was so happy, and he died so quickly. That’s the way to go out! they say. Well, maybe this is selfish, I mean, I’m happy he was happy, the happiest of his entire life, but I’m the one that has to live without him. I was also that happy and now I’m alone, and he’s gone forever. We were planning the rest of our lives together.
Now he’s gone, and I’m lost.