4 years ago. I'll try to keep it less than a novel.
My Suzanne had been weirdly connected to me since about 16 when she saw Just A Peace, a band I'd founded but at the time was just out of. It was her first ever "I'm a fan of this band I can meet often" and she was dating my friend when we actually first met. That night she just kinda laid it out that she wanted to stay with me instead, which I promptly reported to my friend on the DL and advised him that she was a whore, figuratively. So she left with a facebook invite and we talked once a month or so for 6 years.
She was out of touch for a while and I had learned that her pain pills for an injury and surgery turned into pain shots of heroin, so she had been in rehab and while there had found out she was pregnant.
I was extremely drunk in my defense.
I offered her a move-in family special: I would work and be dad and all of it and she'd never have to worry and it was all flowers and romance for a year and a month and then she relapsed over post partum turned bored housewife. I figured this out by 3am atm withdrawls and at the time I was drunk asleep exactly at 10pm till 5am daily. The drinking was at least kinda normal then. This happened twice and I sent her to rehab and told her she can have her ring back when she's clean for a year. So fiance but the baby had my last name, we lied and said I was the dad to the state, and had a wedding planned and booked.
70 days into rehab she walked out, bought dope, tried to confess and go back... they put her in a motel room alone and she overdosed.
It does not end here.
I'll preface this and say my normal response to anything spiritual or what might be on the discovery channel in such a way is that the witnesses are clearly retarded and should be drugged involuntarily. Suzanne haunted me because we talked about it. We lived in the crook of a big L shaped cemetery and "what if" came up randomly and we traded promises that the first one who passes contacts the other and not in some puzzle suggestion way. I said basically make the walls bleed in front of witnesses:
Suzanne sent me the plagues because she knew I'd connect it to history. First ants, then mites, then ladybugs, then stinkbugs, then flies, then crickets. In my apartment. Coming from nowhere, milling about confused. No wave overlapped, there wasn't a cause or a food source. Then I hit 10 birds with my car, I know because for the hell of it I counted on the road. Then a hole about 5 foot wide and 30 foot deep, for no reason, appeared in front of my door. Then my keyboard blew every single key into the ceiling hard enough to dent it. Then both my cats died of asymptomatic bladder infections two weeks apart with no common cause. PLENTY of other people saw this shit.
Then her mom, dad, and sister all died weeks and months apart.
Then I drank myself into rehab but only after I was permanently injured going from goddamn olympic shape to "can walk several yards at a time" and had to medically retire and sue the worker's comp board. And social security.
I sell wood art and beef jerky to cover the bags of weed between my almost competent growing.
Most people would have been really upset and broken and I have decided I will not be. There are cracks in the mirror but it's still reflective. I have "my" Genevive and if it wasn't for me not giving up she would be in foster care and molested.
The natural state of the human condition is tragic but luckily I am polish and we got used to it over the centuries.