I met him in college - specifically, in the cafeteria. All of the tables had someone sitting at them, but he noticed me sitting by myself and figured he'd introduce himself.

"Is this seat taken?" he'd asked.

I shook my head, barely looking up at him. "No."

"Sweet." He sat down, putting his food on the table. "I'm Peter."

"Anne," I replied simply, finally getting a good look at him.

He was cute.

We continued talking, and I found out he was majoring in English (I was majoring in Chemistry) and he was my age - twenty.

Despite this, he didn't ask me about my life goal - not then.

However, on our first date (he asked me out at the end of that first conversation), he did.

"So, what's your life goal - i-if you don't mind me asking?" he asked.

I didn't mind; I wanted to know his, too. "To go to Portugal."

His brows furrowed. "Can I ask why?"

"I can easily avoid going to Portugal."

He chuckled. "Ah, I see. You're one of those people who wants to evade death."

I chuckled, too, half-confused. "Well, yeah, most people do. Why? What's yours?"

"To die."

I was so shocked I just sat there for a minute in utter silence. Finally, I said, "To die?"

He was amused. "Yeah. I can't die until I die. That's the whole point. It's not like I'm looking to die, but if I get shot or something, then I guess just let that be it. It'll be a surprise. I'll never know when I'm going to die until it happens."

"You could literally be immortal if you were smart enough to pick something difficult to do," I said. "My great-grandfather's goal is to go to the moon, and he's 127."

"I'm guessing he's not an astronaut," Peter joked.

"He's a retired mechanic."

"Smart, I guess. But don't you think living that long would get boring after a while?"

I thought about that for a moment. "I don't know."

"Ask your great-grandfather and see what he says."

I did, and he told me he wished he would've been astronaut. I figured that, if Peter was really right, I could always fly to Portugal. My goal was easier to attain than the moon.

Peter and I continued dating throughout college, and, a few months after we graduated, he asked me to marry him. Of course, I said yes.

We bought an apartment and got jobs - him as an English teacher at a nearby middle school and me as Chemical Engineer. We soon saved up enough money to buy a house not far from our jobs.

Life was wonderful. He was wonderful.

I look back on it all as I stand over his casket.

A few days ago, he was walking back to the house from the corner store down the road. We'd run out of milk.

A careless driver had drifted too far to the right and hit him. They thought he was fine, then quickly realized he wasn't and called for help, though it didn't make much of a difference.

Peter completed his life goal.

Peter was gone.

After I leave the funeral, receiving apologizes and sympathy from friends and family, I go home and get on my computer.

Plane tickets to Portugal are cheaper than I thought they'd be.