The unreality of it still surprises me. I consider texting his phone, but don’t. He will not answer. My texts will pile up. I will have to deal with them when I have the courage to explore his phone. Something I’ve done little of so far.

In the early days I looked through the most recent text messages with friends searching for a clue… why did he die? Did I miss something that could have prevented it? I thumbed through very recent photos looking for one he may have liked for his obituary. Then I gave his phone to Mama so it wouldn’t be so… there.

I had been struggling with the watch app on his phone. I desperately wanted to view it and desperately did not. I knew he was wearing the watch when he died and I knew the app recorded every second of his final moments. What were they like? Did he call out for me? The app couldn’t tell me that, but maybe some indication of his breathing and heart rate could. Could I bear it if he had? I’m not sure. The official stance of the North Port Police Department is that he died in his sleep around 3 am. Did he? I want to view his every heartbeat. But I don’t want to view his heart stopping. I don’t know what to do with that. 

His girlfriend, Marciana was in bed with him when he died, I think. Did she wake up to find him not breathing? Why did she wake at 3? Was she somewhere else in the house when he stopped breathing? How long had he been gone when she noticed? She and her roommate tried CPR. Did they ever get a response of any kind? He had trouble breathing the night before. Why? Was he already experiencing the early stages of cardiac arrest the night before? Why didn’t he call me? He always called me when he was sick. He sent me a photo of his temperature the day before he died. Why didn’t I take it more seriously? Did I fail him? Did Marci fail him? Is there anything either of us could have done differently? Does it matter now? 

I don’t know the answer to any of these questions and they plague me continuously. I try not to ask them because they can’t be answered. But the asking continues… unwelcome but ever-present.