Bleak.
Words fail to describe the crippling pain that engulfs when you lose a loved one. I haven't experienced that since my grandmother passed away when I was nine, and we weren't even that close. However, the man slowly fading from my grasp is someone who's stood by me all these years. He's the person I call whenever I need company on a Saturday night, and the one who patiently endures my romantic grievances over coffee and carrot cake.
Seeing him barely lucid on the bed and a fraction of his jovial self leaves me helpless, but praying for him to have the strength to endure more pain seems ironically inhumane.
Would it be right to instead ask for his liberation?
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