I was at a birthday party for one of my friends children. It was a cool experience as they had a reptile expert come and bring snakes, lizards, geckos etc. I found myself relaxing and enjoying myself. Something my mind doesn't allow myself to do much these days.
There was a man there, very friendly and outgoing, the only person I had to explain my "situation" to at the party. I managed to dodge the "how did he die" question pretty well so I was feeling pretty good. Anyway, this man began telling a story of a time he was in Mexico, and an older man came up to him and tried to get him to eat cow brain soup. He sat down with the man, drank brandy, and ate the soup. Every one was listening to him, hanging on his every word. It reminded me so much of Ben, still I was doing ok. I enjoyed being around someone so "full of life", like my Ben always was. Then his wife jumped in and said "Nothing stops him", I thought it was so cute, how proud of him she was. I related to it, understood it, and still I didn't let sadness overtake me. I reveled in it, lived vicariously through them for that moment. Then the husband quickly retorted "well.....a bullet". Moment over, I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. No one knew how much those three little words hurt me.
That was exactly my Ben, nothing stopped him either, except those three words, "well, a bullet."