I’m going to your funeral this weekend. I never thought I’d say that. So many unanswered questions. I’m sorry.
I imagine seeing you for the first time in years. I miss you.
This is where you belong. Come back
I miss you. Do I have to make an excuse? You should still be here. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be here
What the fuck am I supposed to do? Why? My hands hurt
Maybe in another life. Maybe some other time. Every time I’m mad or sad or watch some stupid movie I think about it. Some days I don’t think about it at all. Some weeks my brain is empty of that feeling you leave. Some weeks I can’t fucking breathe at all it’s so suffocating. Something has to change. This isn’t working.
Doesn’t feel right. Fuck you
Had a terrifying dream of you last night.