“It’s just so fucking unfair.” Her voice sounded strained. “I mean… it’s Tina. She’s such a good person, she would just… she is…”

“I know,” I said. I did know what Shane meant. It was almost surreal that this was happening. Tina gave so much of herself, she was so honest and good-hearted, her feeling for justice was so strong, she was so strong.

I looked at Tina and the machinery around her. She would hate it if she was aware. But she wasn’t. A part of me expected that Tina would just sit up, laugh and tell us it was a joke. It wasn’t reality. Or that I would wake up and find myself in my bed with Tina sleeping next to me and I would be able to hug her and kiss her and tell her how much she meant to me.

But the doctors, our friends told me that it was real. The thing that freaked me out most was that I couldn’t help Tina, I was unable to do anything to make her better. It was not in my control.

Her life was hanging in the balance. There was the possibility that she would wake up, that she would get better. But it was more likely that she would die in her hospital bed. It was horrible, because I knew Tina would hate it. If she had to die, she wouldn’t want it to be in those circumstances.

Shane was now letting the tears flow over her cheek. I patted on my lap and she came over to me. I held her like a baby, she was sobbing in my arms. I felt guilty, I hadn’t cried a single tear. Did it make me a bad person?

I didn’t know and I didn’t bother to ask anyone. They would only say that it was a reaction I couldn’t help, that I wasn’t compelled to cry, that I was in denial and the pain would come later. They wouldn’t say it made me a bad person.

Tina dying was just NOT a possibility. I was stroking Shane’s back, whispering that it all would be okay. A part of me did believe that, that everything would be okay and Tina would wake up and we would be happy ever after.