MBH rode his bike over the bridge near our house to meet some friends for a night out, which always makes me nervous because its dark, and drinking is involved, and the bike lane is narrow, and I worry.

At some point, I woke up to find him home and standing over me. “I love you, Kate. I really love you.”

“I love you too,” I (hope I) mumbled, and went back to sleep.

In the morning, I woke up to find that his side of the bed hadn’t been slept in.

I’m not even sure what a normal person would think. All I know is that my brain immediately leapt to “I knew he would get killed riding his stupid bike on that stupid bridge and now ghost MBH visited me to say goodbye.”

Turns out he had just fallen asleep on the couch. Crisis averted.