The day after I was supposed to die, was just like the rest. Everyone went about their routine. Everything was the same, except for him. He stood closer to me. His hugs became longer and more frequent. He walked me to every class like he was worried I’d disappear. Every long pause ended with him asking if I was ok. I told him I was, but I’m not sure anymore. I want to be better for him, but what if I can’t be?