Grieving In NOLA

This is like the worst fucking version of Groundhog Day. I wake up and you're still dead... again.

THE REVOLUTION BOUT TO BE TELEVISED, YOU PICKED THE RIGHT TIME FOR THE WRONG GUY.

I HATE that I'm getting used to you not being here. It feels so, so wrong.

Another year without you...

No one deserves to grow old, I guess.

One of the cruelest things about grief is that I can't call the person I call when I'm a wreck.

I remember where I was the last time we spoke. The last time we saw each other. I just miss her so intensely.

Every day.

The verdict and sentencing were like winning the lottery. But nobody really won. 'Guilty' nor 'life in prison' can bring a person back to life. My person.

YOU JUST SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO LOSE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. NO. YOU SHOULDN'T.

Sometimes I think my heart is just going to stop.

I really miss being able to just pick up the phone and talk without niceties and to have the person on the other end genuinely happy just to talk to me about whatever. Just to hear my voice.

When things used to happen, I always knew who was the first person I'd call. Now I have to think about it. I hate that for me. So much. #grief #loss

Damn. Maybe I'm lonely.

Grief is very lonely.

THE DEAD KNOW NOTHING.

Here's the thing about punishment, whether in this life or the next: it doesn't reverse time. It doesn't undo what was done.

I wonder if dead people miss the ones they've left behind.

463 days. #RecoveryPosse