I want to be angry at you. I want to throw a pillow so hard that it rips and all of the feathers fall out across our bed. I want to cry so hard that I shake and choke on the salt water. But all I can do is feel sorry for you. I’m sorry about the choices you made when I was away in the city. I’m sorry about your lack of communication when I’m going through chemotherapy. I’m sorry that you are so broken, so scarred, so hurt, that you cannot muster up the strength to even say goodbye. So I will kneel in my patient room and pray to God that you find the courage to live your own life and accept responsibility. And then I will take a deep breath and move forward. Without you.