It's ok

I met the love of my life. Maybe it is just idolizing her memory but she was just about as perfect as I could hope for. We were adolescent lovers with time limits and somehow got back together in adulthood. We helped each other out, she kept me off my edge and I kept her from teetering over hers. That builds a hell of a bond. She got me into rehab when I was trying to kill myself, and my life just kept getting better. We had such a wonderful relationship, we went so well together.

Then she got sick. At first, the antibiotics gave her pancreatitis and the hospital staff wouldn't treat her properly. She was screaming in pain while I fought the nurses to give her meds. Every two hours for days until they figured it out. She seemed to get better for a couple days. Then back in the hospital for a week. Back and forth like this, for three months. I held on to the blind hope that she would get better. In the end we had to fight her to keep her cpap mask on. She was barely conscious. The last words she spoke to me were when she looked into my eyes while fighting off the doctors. She was crying and begged me to help. She didn't want help living. She knew the game was up. She wanted help dying. Even the doctors agreed that there was nothing left that they could do. Seven hours of comfort measures and her heart gave out. She opened her eyes one last time at 7:45am and I told her that I love her and that it is ok.