The day you died.

The day you died changed everything.

I watched as the colour and life drained from your face and your eyes. I helped you take those faltering steps across the hospital waiting room before you fell.

As you lay on the floor, doctors rushed to take your pulse and you looked like a fallen warrior; so huge and muscular. The doctors looked small kneeling beside you as they struggled to get your heart beating again, and began CPR. They pulled a screen in front of you, a crash team rushed in, my throat was closing stopping the air from reaching my lungs… And all I could see was your huge arm; the arm that had been my shelter, my safety for so many years lay limp and lifeless; stubbornly still.

I had lived life without you before and I had faced the thought of losing you more times than I could count. But we had never fought an enemy as unpredictable as your own fragile body before.

Memories invade and flood my brain, love and despair coarse through my veins.

I am terrified of losing you.

Our love story plays in my mind like a movie. You are not yet 30 and our youngest child, has not even turned one. I cannot lose you. I am gripped by fear that our babies may not know you as I know you. I have to find a way to make them see the man you are to me. To make them love you the way I do. They have to know heroes do exist. They have to believe in love and happy endings. Yes, for me, the day you died changed everything.

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