days were empty. he would lay down all morning. does nothing all afternoon. and eats nothing all evening. he would rarely gets sleep. he would stay up looking pictures, remembering her, crying himself to sleep. his phone never dies, although he never answers it.
he was in such a pain. he was forgeting how to live.
she knew that and was prepared.
there was a list. list to him. a to do list.
it was simple.
she knew how miserable he would be without her, so she came up with a plan.
she wrote everything, too many thing to him, that she would like him to do. to remind him there is a way to live again.
in list, there was verity of things. adopt a kitten, sign up for a yoga class...
but there was one thing he would do over his cold dead body.
-fall in love...
nope. we would rather die.
but it was a simple equation. do the thing = she is happy out there. do not do the thing = she is after you.
he groaned the thought. how can someone be this thoughtful and be so dense at the same time?
he spilled himself a cup of coffee. he hates coffee by the way. he would always come up with the things most harmful to him.
meow.
oh, the kitten. yes, he did some of the list. he had a therapist appointment, found a yoga class, got the kitten... he even got himself a diary. to write his pain? no, to write the things he is thankful for. his sister, his house, this kitten...
oh how clever you are, he thought to himself while sipping his luke warm coffee.
zırrrr...
the appointment. he chuged down the rest of the coffee.
here comes the days of his rest of the life...
