12.

Eleven days.

More surgeries, so many setbacks.

Your body, too weak and broken, gives up with one last breath.

I kiss your forehead one last time.

Your skin is ashen under my lips.

You lay here lifeless, while he's still out there.

I close my eyes and let the tears come and consume me.

I can't think of a life where you're not in it.

You were my life.

Nurses come and go.

They let me stay with you for a long time.

There is nobody else.

Our friends are consumed with their own grief.

Too much, too soon, for too many people.

Something's pressing on my chest, choking me.

I can't breathe.


*sobs*