It's hard to think it's already been six months since you died. It feels like it only happened yesterday, and it makes me feel horrible. I wish we had got to properly say goodbye to each other, and not a day goes by where I sit and feel guilty about it. Mum tries to cheer me up, but it never works. I know you're never going to come back. But when I think like that, I wish I could die too...So we can be together again...So we'll never be apart again...So my pain can end forever.
But every time I think about it, someone comes in and intrudes on my thoughts. It makes me angry. I can't bring myself to do anything anymore. I don't even eat or drink. It makes me feel sick, because I feel if I eat something, you're missing out on something. The last time I slept is so long ago I can't remember. Perhaps it's because that I know if I deprive myself of these thing, I'll be able to see you. To touch you. To hug you. And that's all I want to do.
I can't write anymore. I'm shaking as I write, and all I want to do is curl up and die.