Eric and I plan dinner parties and vacations. We go to work and eat in restaurants (too often). We read, Eric more than I. In a stunning reversal, Eric reads novels and I read non-fiction.
I used to sit in the backyard and smoke cigarettes and drink red wine. Now I sit in my bedroom and chat online about Christ and cancer, and drink water.
Eric reads the paper and drinks coffee in the mornings. He makes me eggs scrambled w/ feta and hash brown potatoes on the weekends.
We have a color-coded calendar with concerts, festivals, birthdays, dinners, vacations, holidays, camping, et cetera. Life hums along.
Then I feel a twinge in my chest, and everything else falls away.
I don't want to leave Eric alone... or, Eric without me, which will feel alone to him no matter who else is around. Who will take care of him? Who will love him up and remind him how totally absolutely undeniably wonderful he is?
Who will he tell his stories?
It's just too horrible. I just can't stand it, can't stand leaving him, can't stand the thought of it. It's heartbreaking and inevitable. It's the worst part. It's the only real reason I have to curse the fates. A lot of good that'll do.
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