Death of a boyfriend

Litsa Dremousis (Nerve.com): I thought of him this morning when I dusted, knowing I was losing another corporeal part of him, however microscopic. Or rather, I should say, I thought of him more pointedly this morning, because since he died fifteen months ago — with his food in my refrigerator and his things scattered throughout my home — his image and voice have fluttered from my mind in no more than a few scattered instances. And in the early months, when the shock enveloped me like radon, we were as intertwined as ever because I was certain, sometimes literally, that I was dead, too.

-eddie