I’m really worried that tonight is the night. I find myself just staring at my husband as he’s breathing. Or… struggling to breathe. The machine is doing its best pushing air into his lungs but it seems like sometimes they don’t want to accept what it has to give. His brow stitches together as though his sleeping thoughts are perplexed to this failure. My own breath catches in my chest and I wait in agony, my heartbeat thundering in my ears, until his body relents and he takes a big deep breath in. His expression and my body relaxes and we repeat the cycle.

It’s weird. I can’t stop staring at him. I’m questioning my own actions, wondering if I have overmedicated him. Although I quickly reassure myself that I gave him what he requested and what is prescribed. I tend to do that a lot… I make myself the cause of everything. The flaw. The mistake.

I hope I’m wrong in my assessment. My prediction. Mainly because I feel like today was wasted. That I didn’t get enough time with him or tell him that I love him enough.

Listen to me… I’m acting as though it’s come true. I’m going to sign off here before I say something I regret. As if I somehow spoke it into existence.