This was taken the day of our friend's funeral 7 years ago.

She had a desire to die and slowly committed suicide through drugs and cancer. She chose to let the cancer eat her away and used throughout the disease until she was hospitalized. 

The end was humble and bitter. We parted on bad terms, nothing like the poetry or fiction I had read about for another's end of life scenarios. People can, and do, leave this Earth angry at their loved ones.

This picture of me was in the depths of my grief, the morning after friends gathered around a campfire to remember, and that same day, another family member—who had asked and agreed to show up—made the choice not to, leaving me desperate in the depths of a hole I had never encountered. 

My grief, and her grief, are here.