Probably the most disconcerting thing about Greg’s death was how fast I was expected to recover from it. When you are a 25-year-old not-really-a-widow, because, after all, he was “just a boyfriend,” you hear often that you are Young! And Still In Possession of Your Looks! That You’ll Find Someone Else! I wanted to tell all these well-meaning people that Greg got new livers, but someone forgot to put my heart back in. I didn’t take any time to work through my grief. I didn’t think I could. I went back to work a week after he died and just a few days after we buried him. I wanted to forget the bad at the end, and was simultaneously terrified I would forget how great the rest was.
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