the sorrow that begins the moment you learn your teenage boyfriend died violently, prematurely, senselessly. Their deaths have aged us, as if their unlived years have been added to our lived years and we bear the disappointments of both the lives we have and haven’t lived, so that even when we are alone, brushing our teeth in our quiet bathrooms, lying awake in our empty beds, even when our little ones are tucked in, when our friends are brushing their teeth in their quiet bathrooms, lying awake in their empty beds, even when the door is shut and no one can see or hear us, we are not alone, we
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