I want to smile about memories of you. I want the hurt to shrink, because right now it casts a massive shadow over my ability to feel any joy of my memories. I want to remember you before the booze and madness took you over, before the bottle of pills ate you. I want to smile when I remember you, instead I go to the washroom and cry. This greif is so godamn heavy. I am in limbo between loving you and hating you.

I am so angry with myself. I was supposed to save you, not because I am a fucking martyr, but because it was YOU that needed saving. You, who deserved so much and got so little. You just gave pieces of yourself away untill there was nothing left. I regret not speaking at the wake. I was afraid they would smell mistress on me. I wore the garters and fishnets you loved so much. I was afraid of what I would say, the truth can be so fucking scary. You always got my sympathy but that is so petty, so surface. You were one of the last bodies I touched before meeting Dion.

I could not look at her at your funeral, knowing she knew you always ran to me, you would go to her with my scent on your body. The two women in your life, opposite ends of the funeral home, seperate tribes surrounding them. I wanted to hold her, to apologize b/c she deserved you to be faithful to her. I was feeling too honest to be around her. 1year, 2 years, 3 years.. all that time with her and you would still run to me. I was the most damaged holy grail you could ever pick, which is why you did. Even your love was self destructive. I wish you had a grave, I wish I had a place to pillage to, to drink, to cry, to mourn. To yell at you, spit on you and to hate you. I am so conflicted. I miss you so fucking much. Over 2 months have passed, seasons are changing. I am stuck in this greif. If I heal it means you are gone. These open wounds keep you alive.