Spring Comes to the Withered Trees

In my tenth year with Gu Chenzhou, I counted down on my fingers the days until I would leave.

He tore up my diagnosis and stamped on it. Photos of me sucking up to people and drinking with them spread like wildfire through our social circle.

My daughter replaced the money in the envelope meant for my treatment with blank sheets of paper.

Gu Chenzhou loudly announced in the media that he would donate my organs after I died.

I died before I even made it to the hospital.

Later, when Gu Chenzhou visited my grave during Qingming, he wept uncontrollably and even smashed his head against my tombstone, killing himself.

He defiled my Instagram-style memorial photo.