Danny was a completely different person. As soon as he’d accepted his fate, his cynicism and bitterness vanished—he was as cheerful and fun as he’d been before, radiating an unbelievable love for life and almost infinite motivation to experience everything he (still) could. Having made the decision not to stay in the hospital helped him feel like he was in control, which made him a lot less afraid of the future.

We drove to the Italian coast in the middle of winter, parking in the middle of the beach and sleeping in the car with the heat running. As wonderful as it was, it was exhausting as well—I had no idea where Danny was getting all of this energy. He dragged me from one experience to the next without stopping. Since he’d completely discontinued HAART therapy, he was free of the side effects as well, so he felt fantastic again. Even though he’d showed no signs of either physical or psychological withdrawal during his entire hospital stay, he couldn’t get enough of the drugs now.

Now that the doctors had told him he didn’t need to expect a repeat of that episode in August, he’d started driving with me in the car again. He didn’t want to risk going to Atlanta with me, though. Italy was as good as it was going to get. “You’ll need to be able to get home without me if anything happens,” he kept saying. He didn’t think I was capable of finding my way around a different continent by myself. I didn’t mention the fact that I’d never manage to find my way home from Italy, either.

On Sunday evening, he dropped me off at my parents’ house. “You want to come up for a minute?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It was a long drive. I’m tired.”

Alarm bells went off in my head immediately. In the more than three years I’d known him, I’d never heard him say those words. “I’m tired, too,” I said, not letting my worry show. “I’ll come over after work tomorrow, then.” We said our goodbyes, and, as I was getting out of the car, he handed me an envelope and a debit card.

“I wasn’t able to transfer my savings to you,” he explained. “It didn’t work. So I put everything in a new account. The PIN number is in the envelope. You can take whatever you need from there. The balance is six figures, so you’ll never be able to take it all out at once with the card, but your name is on the account, so just go to the bank and close it out. I’ve kept enough for myself to cover what I need. The rest is yours.”

I took the card and the envelope, nodding. There was no getting around the fact that he was going to die. If he wanted me to have his savings, so be it. I didn’t want to fight about it anymore. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’d better go get it right away. Right after I die, at the latest. I don’t want my dad getting wind of it and trying to get his hands on it.”

“What would he do with it?” I asked. “He’s rotting away in jail. I don’t think he’d care about money.” Danny’s father had developed AIDS years ago and had all kinds of health problems. I desperately hoped he died before his son. Danny deserved at least that much justice.

He just shrugged. “He can’t use it, but I wouldn’t put it past him, even if it were just to get one over on me.”

“I’ll get it in time,” I promised and got out of the car, putting the card into my wallet as I walked into the house with Leika. I waited to open the envelope until I reached my room, and I saved the PIN to my phone. There was a poem in the envelope as well:

 

Where You Will Find Me

Do not come to my grave,

You will not find me there,

Cast your grief aside,

Cold earth cannot bind me.

 

I ride on the winds

That visit you on summer days.

I will discover the oceans,

Be the waves that carry you to shore.

 

Now I am the sun’s brightest light

To drive away your dark thoughts.

I am in every voice that speaks

To cloak you in hope.

 

So come not to my grave,

You know I am not there,

If you seek me, do not look down,

I am, like you, so near the horizon.

 

I read the poem a second time, and then a third, and suddenly the uncertainty I’d been feeling turned to fear. Had this vacation been a goodbye? Why had he given me access to his bank account today, of all days?

“I have to go again,” I called to my parents as I ran down the stairs. “I’ll be back tomorrow night!” I grabbed Leika’s leash, and she followed me to the door.

“Jessica!” my mother shouted after me. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting so strange lately!”

“I’m fine, just forgot something!” I started my car with trembling fingers and raced toward Danny’s house. My parking job was, once again, ridiculous, but I didn’t care. When I burst into the apartment, panicked, Danny was sitting on the couch in a jogging suit, watching TV. He raised an eyebrow at me, and suddenly I felt like an idiot.

“Sorry, I don’t know…” I shrugged, sighing. “I thought… Oh, I don’t know why I came.”

He smiled when he realized what I’d been worrying about. “You thought I was going to get into the tub and slit my wrists?”

“The thought had crossed my mind, yes.”

“That’s silly. Bleeding to death takes way too long.”

“Danny, was I right to worry?”

He patted the couch beside him. “No,” he assured me, as I sat. “As long as I’m feeling okay, don’t even worry about things like that. When it gets to that point, I’ll let you know beforehand. I promise.”

I thought back to the decision he’d made at the AIDS hospice in the Black Forest. If he was prepared to take his own life, then so was I. “I’m in, then!”

He stared at me like I’d completely lost my mind. “Excuse me?”

“You heard right! If you slit your wrists, I’m slitting mine. If you throw yourself in front of a train, I’ll follow you. If you take sleeping pills, I’ll take just as many.”

Danny leaped up from the couch. “Get out,” he growled.

“I’m serious! You said you love sports and action, and you don’t want to live without them. I love you, and I don’t want to live without you!”

“But I’m sick. I don’t have a choice. I would love to go on living, but I can’t. You can, and you will!”

“No. I’m going with you.”

“Get the hell out,” he said in a threatening tone, pointing to the door. “Take your dog and go, and don’t you dare come back!”

“No,” I said again, just as coldly.

“We’re done. It’s over.” His voice was icy. “I don’t care what happens, you’re not coming near me again!”

“You probably think doing that would be brave of you. But that’s not brave! It’s completely stupid! It’s just plain bullshit!”

As he always did when I started screaming at him, he simply left me there, storming out of the living room and slamming the door behind him. I hugged one of the pillows to my chest and began to sob. Why did he refuse to see it my way? We were normally on the same wavelength—he understood what I was feeling without me even having to explain it—and now he was reacting like this.

On my way into the bedroom, my gaze fell on the kitchen cabinets. Danny had written something across the wood in black Sharpie.

 

Wrong or right,

Courage or madness,

Meaningless and futile,

The countdown begins ...

 

One must always

Travel the last path alone.

Though you remain behind,

I will carry you with me in my heart!

 

Sorry, Ducky.

I’m so sorry!

 

I burst out sobbing again and sank to the kitchen floor. He’d never take me with him. He was going to leave me behind in this shitty life, and he even thought it was the right thing to do.

Rage built up inside me. How come he got to decide and I didn’t? What gave him the right to make decisions about my life?

I straightened again and went after him, but he had locked the bedroom door from the inside. “Danny! Open up!”

“No. It’s over. I don’t want you anywhere near me anymore.”

“Let me in!”

“No. Go home.”

“My dog is in there with you, you idiot!”

“I’ll bring her to your place tomorrow. Goodbye, Jessica!”

Furiously, I hammered the door with my fists. “Open the goddamn door!”

“I don’t love you anymore!” he called out.

“Oh, cut it out. You’re a terrible liar, don’t even try!”

“I cheated on you. There’s someone else!”

“Danny, open the door.”

“I’ve been seeing her for two years now, and you didn’t notice a thing. You can hate me now.”

“I forgive you. Let me in!”

“I’ve been going to a brothel every Monday evening for the past three years!”

A flash of fear hit me. Not because I believed what he was saying in the slightest, but because he was alone in the room. He could be doing God knew what in there. Did he have sleeping pills with him? Or razor blades?

“Open the door, or I’m kicking it in!” I sounded hysterical.

“Go ahead and try!”

I’d seen Danny kick a few pieces of furniture, and splinters of wood had always flown everywhere. When I did it, nothing happened. I kicked it again. Then I heard motion behind the door. My heart sang with relief, but then I realized he was pushing the dresser up against the door.

“Open the fucking door!” I kicked it a third time, with no results.

“What is it about ‘I don’t want to be with you anymore’ that you don’t understand?”

There was nothing left in me. I collapsed to the floor in tears.

After a while, I heard him push the dresser away, and I waited for the door to open. But he just sank down against the other side of the door. We spent the entire night like that, back to back, crying. Separated by a door. Even though I could hear him sniffling, I knew he would never give in. He was more bullheaded than I was, always had been.

The sun was already beginning to rise when I gave up. “You win, Danny. I accept your decision. I’ll stay in this stupid goddamn life and pretend I’m happy.”

I heard him stand up and unlock the door. He came out and sat down again on the floor beside me. Then he took me in his arms. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

I buried my face against his chest, sobbing. “Just how do you picture all of that happening? Should I act like everything’s fine? Get married, happily ever after, and name my son Danijel?”

“No, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t do! You need to find a way of dealing with it. I already told you my strategy: make a big bonfire, burn everything—to help you let go of the pain and the anger. And someday you’ll be able to think about me again. I mean, I don’t want you to forget me completely, of course. I want you to remember me, but I want you to do it with a smile.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Someday, I want you to think about me and tell your children about me, smiling, and then say, ‘It sure was nice with that crazy guy, but now everything’s great just the way it is!’ Don’t let yourself get trapped in bitterness or frustration. You’ll find your path, Ducky.”

“You’re completely insane.”

“Yeah, we’ve been over that. That’s not going to change.” He took my hand. “I’m going to die. And I want you to grant me my last wish: find yourself a guy, get married, and have kids. Make sure he’s an average guy. Average guys are easier. They’re more approachable and more predictable. They don’t force you to dance to the beat of their own weird drum quite so much.”

At the time, I thought Danny just couldn’t stand the thought of me getting together with someone who was as attractive and special as he was. In retrospect, though, I realized that he was simply right.

He looked at me for a long time before he said, “After I die, don’t think about me anymore until you can do it without it hurting. I guarantee that you’ll be happy you’re alive then. I promise you!”

 

***

 

When I got to Danny’s place on Friday evening after work, I found him sitting on the floor with a cord around his arm, injecting the heroin directly into his bloodstream for the first time.

It took effect faster than usual, and instead of making him tired, it gave him a rush. Gleefully, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me out into the darkness, just like the old Danny. We ran and ran through the dark forest and strolled through the cemetery, reading the gravestones.

Danny became obsessed with sneaking into the cemetery at night and hanging out by the graves. Sometimes we spent half the night there, despite the cold, biting wind. I don’t know what he was looking for there, but I really hope he found it.