I thought I was doing better.
I woke up and didn’t start sobbing.
As the morning progressed, I was okay.
Bret popped into my head and I was sad, but not crying.
Progress.
Progress to acceptance? Maybe.
Then I wrote my parents asking when I could see them.
I started to cry.
Writing that email made it even more real.
My brother had died.
Too young.
Too sudden.
Too tragic.
I miss knowing that he’s living his best life in Colorado.
I miss knowing that I’ll ever see him again.
I miss him.
I’m really fucking sad. π₯Ίπ
They say in time the sting will lessen.
I don’t believe them. I really don’t.
I lost my fucking brother. How will that ever be less of a sting?!
Ugh. ππ’


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