I’ve always considered myself to be a pretty positive person. Ask anyone that knew me (if you can find one still alive), I always enjoyed being the life of the party and making people laugh. And I have never really had to deal with depression. But this is Day 36 and there is an unshakable reality that I find myself having to deal with more and more every day.
My wife is probably dead.
Now, if she did in fact make it out of Tulsa, if she did make it home, and if she is safe inside our house or her parents, then there is a legitimate chance that she is still alive. Her mom and dad are the stereotypical grandparents. Their freezer and deep freeze are stocked with food. Her dad is this ultraconservative right winger which means he is fully stocked with guns and ammo. Even with Alex grabbing the weapons he did, I know the guns we have were only a small part of Dennis’ collection.
But it has now been a month. The worst part is not knowing. Right now, I hope that she is alive but I have to assume that she is dead or transformed into one of those hideous creatures. I am afraid I have lost my best friend. If I knew that she was, in fact, dead then I could move on or truly start the grieving process. Alexander Pope once wrote “Hope springs eternal in the human breast.” But I am guessing he never saw everyone he knew or cared about transformed into walking flesh bags intent on devouring said breasts.
For that reason (and because I am tremendously influenced by pop culture), I am reminded of The Shawshank Redemption when Morgan Freeman talked about hope being a dangerous thing.
Still, Kasondra had hope. Her and Brad were reunited. But by them having their storybook ending does that mean that all the happiness juice was used up and now there is none left for me? I am still hoping that my wife is alive and fighting to get to me. But, like they say in the movies, hope is a dangerous thing.
I think everyone in here is hoping that we are going to survive this. And while I will never admit this to everyone locked inside Reason’s with me… None of us are going to make it out of here alive. We’re all going to be recruited into that army of the damned that is shuffling around outside banging on our windows and doors.
We’re all going to die…
