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Hello, All. I'm having an impossible time finding a short story I read several years ago. It's about a man whose first girlfriend is shot and killed. They are both addicts (or he was a recovering addict until her murder, and then relapses). He describes how he first became involved with her when they were teenagers. Her father was a cop and holds the narrator accountable for her addiction and her murder (although the narrator was not involved in that), so he is not welcome at the funeral. He steals the woman's corpse from the funeral home (or attempts to).

The only line I can remember is when he goes to a diner but can't swallow any food because he has been using. He thinks to himself, "What's next, forgetting to breathe?"

I thought this appeared in the New Yorker but I can't find it. Any help would be much appreciated!!