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If I hear that goddamned song one more time, I swear I'm going to go crazy. The lyrics have no meaning to me anymore. The notes don't even sound like a tune. You know, the last time I intentionally listened to that song, I was thirty pounds lighter and half as bitchy. Me and my boyfriend would bob our heads to the beat, sing along to the words. Now I just change the radio station and get on with my fucking life. Unlike Jason.

No. I'm not supposed to think about him anymore... The way he would stroke my tail in his paws. How he could lift me out of any mood with his smile or making us chickpea salad after a long day at the office. Just how romantic he could be. The way it felt to make love. Those thoughts are all off limits. Not that I'd want to think them, right?

But this stupid song just eats at me. The chorus especially. The way that it drones on about always holding on because he'll always be there for me. Or him for her... Whatever. Point is, it's complete bull shit. All of it. It's that kind of thought process that I just can't wrap my head around. Romanticism is dead and gone. Nonexistent. Chivalry was thrown out the window in the middle of the century and it's not coming back.

Dr. Gervas said I'm not supposed to talk about Jason either. I'm glad he's gone. He's... he's never coming back. And I'm just supposed to accept that. It's how I can get on with my fucking life. That's what I'm supposed to right? "Moving on is the first step to recovery." It's not like we were together for four years and engaged for two. Fucking therapists. He doesn't even realize how much I love him.

Okay, you know what? Jason is the love of my life. That fucking doctor can shove his PhD up his ass. You know what Jason used to tell me? He used to tell me every day when I got home from my shitty day job that it would only be a couple more years and we could move away. To just hold on. That he would always be there for me. Yeah. It was our fucking song, and now they play it on the radio every ten fucking minutes, and I swear if I hear that goddamned song one more fucking time, I'm going to go crazy.

I'm sorry. I just...

Here, look at this picture. Halloween a couple years ago. We decided to dress up like each other, so we bought fur paint and he did his entire body up in red and white and I did orange and black. I know it doesn't look like that at all, but we got caught in a late autumn rain storm. A heavy one too. All the paint ran together. We got into his car for shelter and we just about ruined the interior. Jason's dad would've killed him. I swear we couldn't stop laughing whenever we looked at each other. Then out of nowhere he just stops and kisses me like the world's about to end. I thought something was wrong. I get this knot in my stomach. And then he proposes to me. I still wear the ring around my neck, see? Dr. Gervas told me to get rid of it, but you know how I feel about him.

We had the ceremony a year later. Yeah, I know. We were technically engaged for two because the state wouldn't let it happen. Local legislature wasn't going to stop us though. If we wanted to be together, we would be, and that's just how it was.

Neither of us knew he was sick until he started showing symptoms. He was in the hospital the next week. They tested me. I came out clean. We'd used condoms ever since we started dating and just continued out of habit. Lucky for me, right? Yeah, lucky.

I think he somehow knew when it was going to happen. He wrote me a letter a day before he went in his sleep. Inside were his ring and the favorite part of our song on paper.

Hold on, hold on. I promise I won't be long. I promise to be there for you even after I'm gone.

And so I do hold on. I told him I would, and keep telling him I will. I don't care what Gervas says anymore. I don't want to forget. I love him. I always will. It's how I go on through my life.

Hey, do you think we could listen to that song one more time?