Afterlife.

I had lived through grief before.

My Grandfather died at the age of seventy-four after slipping into a coma as a result of type two diabetes. And although my Granddaddy's death robbed me of my belief in a higher being and isolated me from those I saw as the “living ones” for a while I fought through it.

I took a job at the local theatre, costume design and small time acting was very time consuming. It distracted me from the true drama in my life.

I got my first big break as Lady Capulet in Romeo and Juliet. I cried uncontrollably on the opening night. But it was all part of the bigger picture. The bigger distraction.

I will never forget the night my Grandmother came to see me in action. She sat in the front row and grinned all the way through the performance – which was a surprise seeing as we played Hamlet that night. She applauded the loudest afterwards and as I stood proudly on stage dressed as Ophelia I realised that I had overcome the most of my grief.

Oh, my Granddaddy still had a special place in my heart where he would never be forgotten. But I seemed to understand that I could be happy again.

This time, Daniel O'Reilly was my distraction and work was his. I spent all of my waking hours making sure that the house was clean and the shopping was done. After he'd come down from his study I'd persuade him to eat a little and he'd try to discuss what he'd been reading about with me. Then we'd watch some television – always comedy – before going off to our separate rooms ready to begin the whole routine again the next day.

The funeral was a little blip in our bubble of healthy silence. It was on that day that we had to truly face what had happened to our best friend. And as we sat in the front of the church listening to the service I saw the first of the tears from my new found ally. They weren't the last.

But now, three months later we were starting to slip out of the routine. Dan was almost fully physically recovered and had been back to work for nearly an entire week. I was trying to keep up with rehearsals and housework. I had moved into his life entirely and although those who knew of our circumstance were accepting, others automatically assumed what we called “the worst”.

I opened the door and was immediately confronted by Giorgio rubbing his face against my ankles and mewling pitifully. It seemed that Dan hadn't got home yet after what was probably more overtime. I fed the tiny cat and poured myself a glass of milk. A loud thump from the study drew my attention away from tuning the radio and I raced upstairs to find Dan splayed out on the floor.

“Phil. Phil look at this.” He said, his voice cracking over the syllables as if he were speaking with a mouthful of broken glass. There on the floor beside him was the photo album I had noticed on my first day at the house.

It was full of magazine clippings, and footnotes. Names written down in margins and everything lovingly arranged in a very organised fashion.

“Daniel.” I sobbed, looking down at the pages full of baby naming paraphernalia. I was seemingly unable to tear my eyes away from the pages as he flicked through them at an increasing speed, “Please, Dan, please just stop!” I screamed and my breathing became shallow as I was overwhelmed by the sorrow that my friend would never realise her dream.

And then it all stopped. My legs gave way beneath me and I fell to the floor with a muffled thud. Dan scrambled closer to me and wrapped my body up in the warm cocoon that his arms created. My mind slowed to a sluggish train of thought; Anne, baby, never, death, Anne, Anne, ANNE.

“Shut up. Shut up, Anne. Shut up, god-damn it shut your mouth Anne-” I moaned, clutching at the arms that surrounded me as Dan rocked me back and forth. After about five minutes to howling inside my head died down a little and I relaxed my stiffened posture.

“Breathe.” He murmured, taking a deep breath as I imitated him, the sobs wracking my body giving it a great whooping sound as the air entered my lungs. I repeated the action, embarrassed at the breakdown a simple book had caused in me. And I felt sorry for Dan more than ever – he had been dealing with the loss in his own way and my overly emotional outburst had brought carefully constructed walls crashing down around him.