The History: I sat where he was hit for a while, they say I shouldn't be upset, I didn't watch him die, I was merely there for the precursors to the event. How is that any better? I look away from the crosswalk, to my left. I see the sky painted the most gorgeous sunset each time I miss him. I weep, because this was all entirely preventable and everyone just looked away when something could have been done months in advance, after I said something. Now nothing can bring him back, and they just don't think about it.