February 28, 2020 will forever be the worst day of my life. I woke early, around 5 a.m., and went downstairs to the kitchen to get something to drink. My fiance, hearing me stir, followed me downstairs as well. He poured himself a glass of water and said he had the "sort of headache that you can't sleep through." I suggested he take some ibuprofen, thinking it was just a headache, nothing more sinister. I then went back upstairs to bed to catch a couple more hours of sleep before I had to be up for work. My alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., but I'm notorious for hitting the snooze button five or six times before I actually get out of bed. At around 7:35, I pulled myself up and saw that my fiance was not in bed. I thought he must have gotten up early to feed the cats. I went downstairs and found him slumped over in the chair he usually sits in on our three season porch. I thought he had fallen asleep in that position, so I chuckled to myself and went out and gave him a quick rub on the back to wake him up. No response. I called his name. He didn't move. I crouched down closer to the floor so I could see his face. His lips and ears were blue; his eyes lifeless. Panicking, I put my hands on his cheeks and felt that he was cool. I ran to my phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher told me I needed to get my fiance on his back in order to start CPR until the paramedics arrived. Little did he know, my fiance was a BIG guy, and I am fairly petite. I tried to move him, but he ended up falling forward out of the chair in what I can only describe as a contorted position. I tried with all the might I could muster, but I couldn't maneuver him onto his back. It didn't take long for EMS to arrive, maybe about 7 minutes. They initiated CPR and administered epinephrine and Narcan. They attached a defibrillator. All I could do was sob and watch in horror as they took him out to the ambulance. I think I knew then that he was dead, but a small part of me wanted so badly to believe there was still a chance. I am wracked with guilt: I should have taken his headache more seriously. I should have waken up just one hour earlier. I should have been able to start CPR. My mind is full of what ifs. He was the love of my life, and now suddenly he is gone much, much too soon at the age of 31. We were supposed to grow old together, and I am utterly lost in this world without him. I don't know that I can ever move on from this. All I can do is cry.