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The Shoulder
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The other driver didn't make it. I survived. I don't know how to carry this.

I've been sitting with this for about two weeks and I genuinely don't know where else to put it.

A driver crossed into my lane on a two-lane highway — witnesses told the responding officer it looked like a medical emergency, possibly a seizure. The impact was bad. I was airlifted. He was gone at the scene.

I'm still here. Cracked ribs, a messed-up shoulder, some stuff with my vision they're still monitoring. But I'm here. And every time a nurse would come in and ask how I was feeling, I'd just think — this man is dead and I'm the one being brought jello and asked to rate my pain.

I keep turning over these little details in my head that I have no right to know and no way of finding out. Did he have people waiting for him somewhere that evening? Was someone expecting a call that never came? I didn't know him at all, but somehow he's in my life forever now.

People keep telling me I should be angry, or focused on "what I'm owed" because of my injuries. And I get it, I have real medical bills stacking up and I'm not working right now. That's real. But the anger just isn't what's taking up space in me — it's grief, I think? For someone I never met?

Has anyone else been through something like this — where the other driver didn't survive? How do you hold both things at once — your own pain and recovery AND this strange grief for a stranger? Did it ever get quieter in your head?

I really just want to know I'm not the only one who felt this way.

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