Found Out The Day After

Chapter four: Wow..

I returned home to California the next day. The entire flight home my head buzzed with thoughts of the previous day. Did he really want me to move? Did he want to break up? Did he even love me anymore? I'm aware that most of these thoughts were irrational, but I couldn't help but have them anyway.
Two days after my flight home, I turned on the TV out of boredom. Flipping through the channels, I discovered a news broadcast about a car crash in New York. I knew it probably wasn't Harvey, but I figured I'd watch the broadcast just in case. Then, I saw it: his horribly handsome brown eyes and overgrown curly brown hair. I knew it was Harvey immediately. The room was silent. My head was spinning. My eyes were welling with tears.
Apparently, Harvey had taken a taxi home after a day of running errands. According to the news reporter, the taxi driver was drunk, and he was going well over the speed limit. Harvey begged the driver to slow down or let him out of the car, but the driver refused. Because he was going so fast, the taxi driver lost control of the car, and the car slammed into a pole. Harvey was impaled by the pole and died almost immediately.
I remember the initial shock, denial, anger, and grief I felt. The hole that Ashley had left in me was torn open again, and this time, there was nobody to fill it. I remember all the partners I had entertained after Harvey, and how none of them had made me feel as complete as Harvey had. Those partners just didn't blend with me as well as Harvey had. Harvey was my perfect puzzle piece; I would never be complete without him.
Eventually, though, I found my last puzzle piece. I didn't need another person; I needed to support myself. As I lay here today recounting my life, I find myself growing restful, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier, a grin spreading across my face. I roll over and turn off my lamp, allowing myself to slip into a deep, peaceful slumber that I will never awake from.