They say there are five stages of loss. In a way, that's what I'm going through of sorts. But I find myself stuck in two of them, anger and depression.1)DenialI lived there when she left with Seviride at the airport. Thinking she loved me like a sappy sack of dumb sh*t.2)AngerBlew past denial when I found her listless body on the beach. To say I was pissed when I found out she was pregnant would be an understatement.3)BargainingDidn't get a chance for that one since the FBI took her away, hiding them both from the Croatian Mob.4)DepressionSome would say this is the reason for my perpetual day-drunk state. What they don't understand is, I like it. It helps welcome the night and numbs me from my unending sex-fest. I suppose those people think I should shower too.5)AcceptanceEveryone keeps telling me to move on. Are you f*cking kidding me? If they only knew she's not even freaking dead!For me, that final stage would be elusive anyway. She was my rush. With every second that ticks away, I live day-by-stinking-day in the rotting pit of my Hell without her.