I don’t want this. I’m so confused. Nothing makes sense anymore. Rupert is ashes in a box next to me in bed. I don’t want the grief. I don’t want to carry this with me the rest of my life. It hurts too much to bare. It’s endless and its deep and it doesn’t make sense. He’s everywhere I look and nowhere. This is the worst pain there is.
I don’t want to wake up tomorrow. In 14 minutes, it will be the day of Rupert’s memorial. I can’t do this. I can still hear echos of my wails of oh my god oh my god oh my god when I heard he’d died. He was killed. Anguish. It hurts. It’s unbearable.
I need him here with me. He needs to be here with me. We were happiest together. I’m not strong enough to do this. I feel so weak and fragile and broken and lost. I’m so scared. He’s gone forever and it doesn’t make any sense. If only he were here right now, by my side. This hurts so much I don’t know how long I can feel this way.
I’m getting tired from the sleeping pill I took. I’ll try to get some sleep. It’s getting out of bed tomorrow that I don’t know how to face.