Speaking.

I dreamed about you last night. It was a bad one. I am laying down in your car watching you drive on the road you died on. You smile at me and I wake up.

My new thing every morning is to wake up and be in hysteria. I hate hysteria. So fucking painful. I will move to the living room where I proceed to fight with you for 10 minutes out loud. I read our text on your broken phone before bed and I hate how many times you say how much you love me, want to grow old with me, just adore me. What the fuck. Why couldn’t you have just shut your mouth. I get unreasonably angry at this and honestly my true feeling is just sadness, because once I’m done cursing you, I cry.

O says I have the worst cry. She’s never heard this one before but it’s whimpering that turns into wailing. It’s very pathetic. I’ve never heard this one either until now. It’s new to me also.

I am so mad that you left. So mad. My bad dream I had I woke up to nothing. I sound like a child but I could call you or come get you and you would cuddle me until I was calm again and go back to sleep. Why do you think it’s okay that you left me to deal with every. little. feeling. Alone? So infuriating.

I am mad at you because we were supposed to go together and I feel betrayed. Any poison on your lips, you left none for me. You left me with no dagger either. I find you dead and there is nothing I can do to join you. How dare you. So instead of joining you, my body is just ripped in half and I have to carry on like this. You are such an asshole. It’s the opposite here, because not only can I not be with you- I have to do well too because of the kids. Who wrote this awful story?

Why did we speak so much? If this was going to happen why make it harder? Why didn’t we just talk like once a day? Why did you want to be with us all the time, you had friends. Why did you say such lovely things that I will never hear again? When I’m angry I hate you for all of this.

I know I sound irrational. I write it anyhow because guess what? No one is here. I have plenty of friends but *Jesse* is not here. No one could calm me down like he could so this is shit. The one person I need to help me deal with this is not here! It’s crazy. I say it’s crazy 7000 times a day. If anyone is wondering.

In my writings when I take a break that is not seen. So I wrote the paragraph above around 7am, and now I’m on this paragraph at 9am. I had to lay down and chill out. Whatever chilling out means. It’s risky typing out how you truly feel because it scares people. But it only scares them because it’s not normal to talk about, it is very normal to feel. People are depressed, they have demons they struggle with, they cry themselves to sleep, they are too anxious, they feel worthless… and they say nothing. I would imagine most of us feel this way at some point and if you haven’t yet- you will. Because death is for everyone, so at some point you will feel these things. Maybe you wont feel anxious or sad because you will numb yourself. Distract yourself with material things. Either way, it is all suffering just the same. Perhaps you don’t even have to wait for a death, you just feel that way already. Well say something to someone. If I had a dime for every time I decided to just “overshare” my feeling on something and get instant support, I’d have a million dimes (is that how that saying goes??). Even things I thought were intense, someone could relate to me, all because we just spoke. In the end, I am glad Jesse and I spoke so much- even if it doesn’t seem like it at 7am, because I know what he would say to all of my problems. It’s like I get some level of support from him still, even if he’s not here, all because we spoke.