Driving to Broome with my dad by my side and I just can’t seem to budge this constant ache of sadness in my chest. This constant ache of what should have been. Broome is a top tourist destination, 8 hours from where Chris and I lived. We had planned to go on the Monday after he died. In fact, he should have been at home packing and cleaning in preparation for our trip, instead of being at work, when the incident occurred. We hadn’t been on holiday for a while, with our combined work efforts making it difficult for us to go anywhere. Chris had bought this trip as a gift for my 25th birthday. In preparation and as a surprise on my actual day he had gotten me a beautiful picture frame where he had hand drawn pictures of us in Broome, ready to be replaced by the photographs we were to take. Sometimes I fantasize about the parallel life I would have lead had Chris still been here.