The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
8 min @ Hub Coffeehouse
It was a bad version of a Monty Python skit. Shit kept going wrong and Cam kept insisting he was fine. He was turning the corner, not to worry. It was a long-ass corner, a never-ending bend. But there was an end, and it was sooner rather than later.
Cam refused to talk about the end, every time Sera pushed the issue he shushed her. “I don’t want to talk, just be here with me.” She had been there by his bedside every single day since he was admitted. Every day it was the same aborted conversation. And then on the second Tuesday she heard the sigh in his voice. She knew then that he’d known all along. And she knew this was the night he needed her to just be there. She stayed through the night, staying by his side long after he ceased to need anything.
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