...sometimes it feels, [he starts off, quiet,] like he didn't think about me at all when he did it. I don't have family left. Our friends were-- mostly his at the time. He met me at my lowest and dragged me up out of it, he knows I wouldn't have made it if he weren't there, what-- why did he think I would want to live alone? Did he not realize what would happen after he was gone?

[he clings a little tighter, there, knuckles white, but he refuses to step closer.]

Here I am, dead before 150 anyway.