Today is the first day of the rest of my life.
Yesterday, R died in a bike accident. It was a freak thing, and as far as we know it was no-ones fault. Only he was hurt.
I look back at yesterday mornings post, and I recognise the girl who wrote it, as though seeing a strangers face for the second time. I am numb inside, but every now and again I cry, huge sobbing aching noisy cries.
It's 2.17 am.
He died at 0750.
I knew at 1115.
I saw him at 1335.
It was definately him.
And yet I have this vagueness, like he is just away in Khandahar again. Like he'll be back and this will all have been some stupid mistake.
It won't have been.
I know it won't have been.
I can still feel him with me, but distant. I know if I could clear my mind of the numbness, that he would be here with me. He will never leave me, I know.
But there is no more option of climbing back into bed with him, all warm and gorgeous.
So I'm up.
His brother is asleep on the sofa.
My mother is asleep upstairs.
I feel like I just need to go outside, and walk and walk and walk and he will find me.
Practically, there is so much to do.
Emotionally, I am exhausted already, and there is so much to still go through.
Physically, I am tired.
Mentally, I am drained.
He is gone, and it is not fair, and I want him back.