Sometimes I could think of nothing else. Nothing but the knowledge that I would outlive him, and it made my insides feel like they were being ripped apart. Sometimes I looked at him and was flooded with dread when I thought of the day that I would start seeing the black cloak of death creeping into the edges of his aura, getting closer every minute. When his body would weaken and visibly deteriorate, and there would be nothing I could do.
