Then on Saturday, while I was at a dinner for a friend getting married, I got a series of jumbled texts from Ms. K.
Yeah, he is dead.
Followed by . . .
It made the worst noise. I think he's dead.
Who's dead??? I started freaking out and try to get more information. Then her original text came in.
Holy shit. Some guy just jumped out of a window on the parkway as I was walking by.
Turns out a man jumped (presumably jumped instead of fell) 15 stories to his death and landed four feet from Ms. K. Had he fallen just a little bit differently, he could have landed on Ms. K.
And then on Sunday we went to Pennsylvania for the first time since the accident. Thankfully the drive back was uneventful -- we even were on the West Side Highway as the Gay Pride fireworks were going off -- but I couldn't stop thinking of moment we got hit.
It's great to be alive!