Glenn left the RV to help the others prepare for the trek into the city. I was left alone.

I didn't really want to be alone. I couldn't stop thinking about my hand. I didn't really want to leave the RV, either, so I was stuck sitting by myself until Dale showed up at the door.

"How are you?" He asked, entering the RV. He looked concerned. Everyone seemed to look concerned around me.

I shrugged at him, and stared down at my hand.

Dale wandered over to the couch on the other side of me. He sat down. I glanced around, wondering what exactly it was that he seemed to want to say to me.

"I have some... bad news," He said. I didn't respond. He shifted, trying to figure out the right way to tell me whatever it was he wanted to tell me.

I wondered if he knew why I was out the night before. I wondered if he knew that the reason I was hit by an arrow was because I was out looking for a condom. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Do you know what gangrene is?"

My eyes shot up to him. He met my gaze. I didn't have to nod.

"I'm not saying it's a sure thing," He said, raising his hands in the air. "But if it starts looking black..."

Silence fell over us. I stared at my hand and he stared at me. He waited for me to react, but I just didn't know what to do. He stood up.

"Just keep an eye on it," he said. "If it shows signs... There's nothing we can really do. Nothing I can do, anyway."

I nodded despite the tears that were falling down my face again. The news hit me like a brick and I had no idea what to do with myself. So my words to Glenn were wrong. It might just kill me yet.

I wandered through the rest of the day like a walker. I idly walked around. I didn't feel like talking to anyone and Glenn was preoccupied and staying in that damn RV just reminded me of what I had done to myself. Dale had told me the truth – the harsh truth – but there was part of my still doubting it.

By the time Glenn made it to my tent, his words had really sunk in.

I could very well die. I knew this as I stood waiting for him in the pitch black.

And it made me want him more.

I didn't tell him of my fate when he showed up at my tent. I didn't utter a word about it as he guided me in and kissed me while we undressed. I didn't tell him afterwards, when we were laying side by side, glowing in the heat of what we had experienced. The word "great" doesn't even begin to describe how I felt.

The morning came all too soon, and my hand hurt more than it had before. I waited to see Glenn off before I bothered to examine the wound. I wanted to spend every moment with him before I checked to see if my fate was sealed.

People were hauling things into the minivan when we approached. Glenn turned to me a few feet away from the vehicle.

"I love you so much," he said, putting his hands on my face. I only nodded in response, but I smiled as widely as I could. My eyes shut instinctively as he kissed my forehead. "I'll be back before the end of the day."

I thought about telling him then. I really did. But I realized it would be incredibly selfish of me. He had other things to think about. He didn't need to worry about me when the others were depending on him.

So I put my hand on his and whispered, "Please stay safe."

"I will."

We hugged for a brief moment, and then he turned to leave. I followed him up to the van.

"Goodbye," I said, trying not to take that as final as it could very well be.

I closed the van door for him, my fingers lingering on the metal. I remembered the first time Glenn left. I wondered if I'd get to see him come back.

I backed away so they could drive off. I watched the vehicle get further and further away. And then I turned and headed back to my tent. I ducked in and grabbed this journal.

As I'm writing this, I don't know the state of my hand. I don't know if I'm in the clear of if gangrene has set in. All I know is, it hurts. It hurts more than it did yesterday.

I'm not entirely sure what I set out to do with this journal. Maybe this entire thing was to have sex. Maybe it was to fall in love. Maybe it was to die. I don't know. What I do know is that this is the last page I have in this little book, and that after this, it's done. I cease to exist to you.

Maybe it's symbolic. Maybe it's stupid.

I believe that I love Glenn. Whether that's real love or I-just-had-sex love, I'm not sure. But there's something here. I wouldn't compare it to the love Lori has for Carl, or the love between Morales and his wife or Amy and Andrea, but there's something.

I'm going to look at my hand. I'm going to discover if I'm going to make it through this, or if I'm going to go out with a whimper instead of a bang. Maybe it's better that way, anyway. To die because of an accident and not a walker.

If you read all of this, whoever you are, I hope it entertained you. Or maybe it taught you something about how life was during this apocalypse. I hope you're reading this on a fancy couch in a warm home with your parents downstairs yelling at you to turn down the stereo. I hope the human race hasn't been wiped out. I hope Glenn is still alive.

Who knows. Maybe I'll still be alive. Maybe we'll meet.

All I know is, I have about an inch left of space left to write. This entire thing with Glenn started with fucked up, mutilated fingers grabbing at me. Who knows, maybe this whole thing will end the same way. But it'll be my fucked up fingers, and not a walker's.

This is it. This is all the space I have left.

I will now discover my fate.