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      "body": "2 years ago, on this day, I was the happiest I had ever been. I was in a well known punk band playing shows with people I idolized as a teenager and I (actively) worked from home doing tech support for Apple. More importantly, however,  I was in the midst of an engagement with the only person who had ever loved me the same way, or as much as I had loved them. Her dedication to our relationship was stunning and I was excited -for the first time in my 30+ years of existence- to be engaged to someone whom it seemed was crafted by the universe specifically for me. It was dreamlike. We were best friends, and lovers, and all that fairy tale crap you grow up thinking relationships were meant to be, but turn out to be nothing like... We had finally found it! Everyday we lit up with genuine happiness just upon the sight of each other. It was so much that even we thought it was gross. Way too happy. Way too perfect. However, On this day, August 12th, two years ago,  I would take the last call of my shift at 4pm, and await my fiance to get out of the shower so I could take her to the hospital as she was not feeling well. We had a normal morning, and there were no major issues with pain, but she had been feeling dizzy and like she may pass out at any moment. She carried a pacemaker after 2 open heart surgeries and we wanted to get her checked out immediately. So there I was waiting at the end of my shift to hear the shower turn off, see the love of my life step out, and take her to receive any necessary care for her condition. After 30 minutes, I could sense something strange in the air and I felt an impending sense of urgency to hear her voice. I rushed to the bathroom door yelling her name. No answer... As I opened the door, I already knew the horror I was about to stumble across before it even fully opened. I could see her in a sitting position in the bathtub, with the shower raining upon her blue, sleeping face. \"Oh... Fuck!\" was all I could say. I ran over to help her, but it was obvious that she was not breathing. Her body was cold, and I was unable to lift her up and get her out of the tub. I will always vividly remember how weak I felt for being unable to do that. My two moms heard the commotion, and came rushing in. We pulled her out,  tried to resuscitate her, and even pumped color back into her flesh as we were on the phone with an emergency operator, awaiting help, and... This is where it ends. She did not survive. Since then I have been clinically diagnosed with PTSD, and placed on innumerable medications, each with varying consequence. I have found myself unable to fit back in to my previous social life, band, or job. I hurriedly gave my heart to another (horribly wrong) person, who recently decided to rip it to shreds for the final time. I am no longer in the band that once made me so hopeful, as of July 4th.  I have remained on disability from Apple, which is set to expire at the end of this month, without access to proper mental healthcare, as only war veterans can truly experience PTSD (right?), and now it is two years to the day since I lost my heart, and I still don't know what to do.  People are confused by how long it's taking me to recover, and I don't blame them. I am equally shocked myself. There is no point here -just like in life. These are just the words I have spinning in my head as I sit here on the 2nd year anniversary since the death of my heart. I still love you Kaley.  RIP",
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