(a.n. okay so this one may seem a little confusing at first, but the reason the chapter is called six words is because all of the important text is grouped into six words. -remi)
so the paramedics finished the text.
Those six words rang in my head, told to me by my fiancé's mother, Connie Hoying.
We were in a hospital, and Scott had been texting me on the road, while he drove, and crashed.
The first time I heard those six words, there was still some hope. He could have still been alive.
There was a forty percent chance of him living. Sure, the odds were against it, but I guess I thought I was in a movie or something.
It was that night that I realized I wasn't in one.
time of death: eleven forty eight
After reading those six words, I fell on my knees and cried. My hand flew to my mouth as I screamed, hoping I was only in a dream, and that I'd wake up wrapped in his arms.
It was hard to believe that I woke up that way that morning.
I cried into his sweater, which I was wearing, taking in his scent as I cried. Normally, it would calm me, but today, it made it all the more bad.
I couldn't believe this was happening to me. The love of my life, just gone.
The rest of that night was a blur, really, because it mainly consisted of my tears and a horrible feeling.
how will i find someone else?
The last six words of my eulogy for Scott's funeral that took place the following Tuesday. They weren't originally supposed to be the last six, but I couldn't talk about his death anymore. I muttered an "I'm sorry," before stepping down.
That was probably one of the hardest days of my life, because it was my first time seeing him-dead.
There was a little part of me that hoped he'd snake his arms around my waist, say "Gotcha!", and we'd just laugh about it.
But, the body was enough proof for me. Touching his hand, and it being cold was enough proof for me.
Saying not even half of my eulogy before breaking down in front of everyone though, was when I needed him the most.
i love you so much, scott.
Six words that I wanted to say to him every second of every day. Even when I'd try to get my mind off of him, he'd be the main occupant of my thoughts.
The wedding band was still on my left ring finger. I considered taking it off, because I cry every time I look at it, but I cried harder the day I took it off, so I put it back on.
The day he proposed was the best day of my life.
I was going through the worst days of my life right now.
I didn't know if I could live like this anymore.
forever does not always mean forever
These six words are what I live by. Scott's birthday passed and I didn't come out of my room in the apartment.
I remember the day he asked me out. It was Christmastime, and he grabbed a mistletoe from his pocket and dangled it over us, and before I knew what was happening, he kissed me.
I love him, so so much. Anything that reminds me of him makes me crumble into pieces. Like hearing him in the old pentatonix albums, or watching episodes of superfruit.
One day his mom came over to check on me and when she knocked on the door I couldn't handle it. I wasn't rude to her or anything, she just reminded me so much of Scott that it was overwhelming.
"Mitch, how are you doing?"
"Oh honey, don't cry. I'm sorry."
"I know it's hard, Mitch."
"I'll come visit you in a week or so, okay?"
i should've gone to the store.
On that day, I should've gone to the store instead of him. He wanted some Oreos and asked me to go, and I was too fucking lazy to.
Why was I so self centered? I guess I didn't know what would happen, but when he texted me asking what kind I wanted, I wasn't just going to assume that it was a paramedic hitting send while he was being pulled onto a stretcher.
It should've been me.
We were going to get married, to spend forever together. He died the month before our wedding was supposed to take place.
I walked into the empty reception area the night of our wedding date, and I imagined what our wedding would have been like in there, it would've been perfect. But, nobody has the perfect life I guess.
i finally pulled it together enough....
...to visit his grave. It took a few weeks, but I eventually pulled it together.
I talked to him while I was there. And, I brought him some flowers. I talked about how I missed him. A lot. Because, I do.
I reminisced on how we met, our first kiss, when he proposed, all of the milestones.
I told some jokes about death, like "if it had been electrocution, it would have been shocking." As if it wasn't shocking enough.
I swear to god I heard his laugh. It's not one of those delusional things, I genuinely heard it. I tried to tell another joke, but he wouldn't have understood what I was saying between sobs.
see you soon. i love you.
