I felt numb. Completely and utterly numb. It was the day of my friend’s funeral. A friend who was chronically ill. Just like I was.
Before he died, he was in a good health spot. I wasn’t. But he was gone. And I was still here. And the guilt of that fact was suffocating.
In some moments, it still is. Since he moved to our town, we had always gotten along. Partially because of a shared morbid sense of humor only people with chronic illness can share, and partially because our families were so similar.Read more on themighty.com