“If I don’t wake up in the morning, just know that I had a good time.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “You showed me a good time.”
David thought about this for a moment and decided to not accept the compliment: “We need to go to the hospital if you are not feeling well.”
“I’ll be fine!” I replied. “I just drank too much.”
He sat back, “Well that was a really sad thing to say.”
“It was a really honest thing to say,” I whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and turned to sleep, absentmindedly-grabbing most of the comforter in the process. I was too weak to grab any back, so I laid there, in the cold, and drifted off to my final sleep.
This is the final scene to my new sitcom: How I Met My Maker. Every episode I unwittingly avoid death in a darkly humorous way, until the series finale, obviously, which will be deeply touching.
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