God, I hate that I even need to type that. Or anything that makes it that much more real to me that he, in fact, will never come home.
He went to the house of a couple he knew, and then collapsed on the couple's stairs, resulting in the couple calling 911. The ambulance came, but the paramedics couldn't resuscitate him.
Did I mention I found out on Growlr? I didn't know the couple, but one of the guys in the couple used it to give me his number and told me that I needed to call him. Once I got the message, I had what I thought was a worst-case scenario mindset. Maybe he got into a car wreck. Maybe he went to the hospital. Clearly, my worst-case scenario mindset needs work. As I had this complete stranger telling me that "he didn't make it," I could feel my eyes well up, and all I could say was "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."
I had to talk to the coroner about 2am, and she asked if we were married.
"Well we talked about it, but no."
"Well this will be much more difficult for you."
His dad was thus the one that everything had to go through. For those familiar with the history of Carl's dad and I, you know it has not been friendly at all. His dad, however, has been very amiable. While I may have had a lot of bad feelings towards his dad, I now pity him. At one point he told me, "I worked to build everything up for Carl. So that he could have all of this. And now that he's gone, I don't know what to do." It's gutting.
Everything has been needlessly complicated in this whole mess.
Here is the obituary for Carl right here.
I will be using this to sort out my feelings, as I have more freedom to write here than other platforms. I need somewhere to sort my mind. Sorry to turn this into a "Death Journal," but I really don't know what else to do.