Sometimes, late at night, I stare at the night sky and try to count all the little dots of light. It is impossible. I imagine there are more stars flickering above then are people flickering below. I catch myself wondering if Doyle is among those stars even while I know he is right next to me and a million miles away at the same time. I look up toward the sky and reminisce how his laughter sounded and how his touch felt upon my skin. I try to fight back the tears as I acknowledge that I will never know that sound or touch again. My chest aches because I use all my strength to hold the tears inside my wounded heart. Sometimes, late at night, I scream. During the night, monsters wake and I can see Loneliness and what he can do to the bereaved. I know because he has tried to kill me. I keep waiting for angels to sing or some shit like that, clinging to the hope that he will come back for me. Logically, I know he will never come back for me. I tell the stars that there is no need to keep punishing me but I believe the biggest punishment is yet to come when I wake up in a hundred-year-old body. It has been two-and-a-half years and I miss him more each passing day. I can only imagine what I will be like in 40 years. I fear that is my punishment for loving him so much, to live a long life without him. Tomorrow—July 2 is our wedding anniversary. It will be the third one without him. God help me. I know I will be standing in the darkness counting all the little dots of light and wishing… pointlessly.