A
AllansGirl
Guest
I knew when I first came to North Carolina with Allan that I was moving either to help him get the transplant he so desperately needed and deserved, or to hold his hand while he died. This morning at around 9:30 I clasped his hand in mine as his heartbeat slowed and finally didn't register at all. All the color drained away from him in an instant, and the man I loved was gone moments before that EKG showed that final flat line. It's so hard to know now that all of our dreams of a long life together no longer have a chance at coming true. He'd often say that he was looking forward to being a crochety old man, sitting with me on a porch swing and chasing kids off our lawn. Allan wanted to chase me through a field of wildflowers someday, and I wanted him to out-run me.
It was sepsis that killed him. That damned bacteria that had plagued his lungs since early childhood infected his bloodstream. He had fought so many battles, but this war could not be won. Allan put up the bravest fight, though. He always did.
I loved him so strongly, so passionately. We shared a desperate kind of love, trying to live a lifetime together in the span of just a few months. Even if we had both lived to be 100, it would not have been enough time. I'd never tire of his company, of seeing his smile or laugh. We never fought, not even once. It's truly incredible that we got along so well. Sure, we had mock fights over things like whether or not poodles are real dogs, but never anything serious. I can't remember a single time when I was truly angry with him, nor him with me. Being with Allan was almost enough to make me believe in soul mates. If ever any two people were meant to be together, honestly, it was us.
Life feels empty. There's this void that a hug from Allan could fill in an instant, but I'll never get another hug from him. Since shortly after we met, Allan had been the focus of my life. He was my purpose. I'm so lost. I'm extremely thankful that I got to spend the time with him that I did. Every moment was worthwhile, and I wouldn't trade knowing and loving him for anything. Right now I feel strongly about only two things: Allan, and how much I hate this damned disease. I have so many good memories. There are bad memories, too. Seeing the person you care most about suffer... I'll try to focus on the positive, though. He'd want me to forget the sickness and pain he endured, and remember him for the loving, brilliant, and all-around amazing guy that he was.
I'd like to tell you all about the day before he went into the hospital for the last time. It was a wonderful. The weather could not have been more perfect. Allan was feeling comparatively good that day, and we went to the State Fair. We walked around for hours, and went on a few rides, got extremely nauseated from them--it was great. I was aware at the time how special it was, how precious those moments spent with him were. I couldn't have known, though, that it would be the last good day. I'm so glad we had that day.
My love is gone, but it is no small comfort seeing the response to this thread and others like it all over the Internet, and knowing how many lives he has touched. I miss him terribly. I'll always miss him. A lot of you lost a good friend today, and I know he'll be irreplaceable to you, too. Please, share your memories of him. I don't want to forget anything.
It was sepsis that killed him. That damned bacteria that had plagued his lungs since early childhood infected his bloodstream. He had fought so many battles, but this war could not be won. Allan put up the bravest fight, though. He always did.
I loved him so strongly, so passionately. We shared a desperate kind of love, trying to live a lifetime together in the span of just a few months. Even if we had both lived to be 100, it would not have been enough time. I'd never tire of his company, of seeing his smile or laugh. We never fought, not even once. It's truly incredible that we got along so well. Sure, we had mock fights over things like whether or not poodles are real dogs, but never anything serious. I can't remember a single time when I was truly angry with him, nor him with me. Being with Allan was almost enough to make me believe in soul mates. If ever any two people were meant to be together, honestly, it was us.
Life feels empty. There's this void that a hug from Allan could fill in an instant, but I'll never get another hug from him. Since shortly after we met, Allan had been the focus of my life. He was my purpose. I'm so lost. I'm extremely thankful that I got to spend the time with him that I did. Every moment was worthwhile, and I wouldn't trade knowing and loving him for anything. Right now I feel strongly about only two things: Allan, and how much I hate this damned disease. I have so many good memories. There are bad memories, too. Seeing the person you care most about suffer... I'll try to focus on the positive, though. He'd want me to forget the sickness and pain he endured, and remember him for the loving, brilliant, and all-around amazing guy that he was.
I'd like to tell you all about the day before he went into the hospital for the last time. It was a wonderful. The weather could not have been more perfect. Allan was feeling comparatively good that day, and we went to the State Fair. We walked around for hours, and went on a few rides, got extremely nauseated from them--it was great. I was aware at the time how special it was, how precious those moments spent with him were. I couldn't have known, though, that it would be the last good day. I'm so glad we had that day.
My love is gone, but it is no small comfort seeing the response to this thread and others like it all over the Internet, and knowing how many lives he has touched. I miss him terribly. I'll always miss him. A lot of you lost a good friend today, and I know he'll be irreplaceable to you, too. Please, share your memories of him. I don't want to forget anything.