Death was never a choice for me. I can still feel it like it happened yesterday. The pain isn’t what haunts me, more the shock . . .
“I’m concerned about your future. I don’t want you to be a fuck up.” Johan’s father ran his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair, a solemn . . .
As I got older, my friends’ parents began to die. Secretly, I was intensely jealous of their pain, not that I could never express this . . .
I’d been planning it for almost seven months. March 30th marked thirteen years together for us as a couple, so naturally, I wanted to treat . . .
My life fell apart in 1992. That was the year when I lost my son. His name was James and he was just seven years . . .