Springtime in the Death Lands
When someone dies before you can say all that they needed to hear from you, it makes you wish you were dead, too. And in March of 2015, I felt like I would never feel spring sunshine on my face ever again. I didn't want t o . Just as I'd been given the opportunity to at least try to start making amends for the horrible things I'd said and done the year before, the only person with whom I'd ever felt truly myself was snatched away. It wasn't sudden, really, but it felt that way to me. And I was left utterly alone, holding a giant bag of shame and guilt and regrets. People felt compelled to tell me, "He loved you, Mo, and he knew you loved him." That made it worse. Worse because I already knew he loved me. I never doubted for one second that he loved me, that he was in love with me. He never gave me a reason to doubt that, but I know I gave him plenty. In the year prior to his death, I was genuinely evil. Not because I didn't love him, but becaus...