swam into view. A doctor told Kaleb I had something called Takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Broken Heart Syn

efusing to speak, refusing to eat. The wound in my s

ous bouquet of flowers arrived. Kaleb

n't well. Try n

red biohazard bin, right in front of the stunned delivery boy. When Kurt called, Kaleb answered only to pr

my sea of nothingness. He told me his friend, an acclaimed arch

use of the gown. He said the design was 'achingly beautiful,' a 'masterpiece of sorrow a

gle, hot tear rolled down my cheek. My tale

ook on the bedside table. My hand, trembling a

espair either, I drew a single, jagged, angry line across a blank

looked at him. My eyes were hollow, but f

e away, Kaleb," I whispered. "I want to