When Jenny, my beautiful beloved, my soulmate, my everything, succumbed to cancer last year, I felt certain my life would end with hers. But, sadly, it didn"t. I could have just killed myself, but it didn"t feel right. At least not at the time, because I felt that wasn"t what Jenny would have wanted me to do. Truthfully, my depression was so heavy and constricting that I didn"t have enough energy to conceive of such an act, let alone carry it out.
The months passed slowly. I lay in bed for the first five weeks, getting up only to use the restroom, eat the most minimal sustenance, and occasionally clean myself. In the sixth week, I tried to go back to work. Unfortunately, it didn"t take, and I ended up walking away from the law firm that had once meant so much to me. The truth was, I just
