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I think about it all the time, what it would've been like if he had died that night. How different it would've been if he hadn't made it. What I would do in general. I would've missed him terribly, but a part of me says that I wouldn't even have time to think about it.....I'd be too grief stricken. He'll always catch me staring off into space or looking in his eyes with no real feeling and he'll ask what I'm wondering about, what I'm pondering on, it's the same answer all the time, "nothing specific." I mean, I couldn't tell him I think about what I'd do if he wasn't here, he'd make a joke and say, "what's that telling me." Or, totally the opposite and tell me not to think about it because he is here. Every December 18th now, is hard, its like in our minds we add how many years its been, its like were saying its when he died, and its unholy. He gives me that stare, the night before and we'll both sit up until midnight or later, knowing that's when he would've died. It's scary, and its not right to think but, what if it had happened, or if we had to make due without him? That's what I tell myself when I feel guilty, or sad. The fact I can and must wonder about the what if's, because if he wasn't here, I couldn't think about that at all.