First entry

The first thing I put in my journal after Faerin died.

When they come

To tell you she’s gone

They don’t take no for an answer

They come into your house

They don’t use euphemisms

They don’t sit down

 

They watch you fall apart and apologize for destroying your world

They wait and wait and wait for the next wave of useless, impotent faces to arrive

 

When they come

They can’t answer your questions

They have no information

They’re only doing their job

 

They didn’t know her

They never saw her dance

Never heard her laugh

Never held her while she slept

Never stroked her hair

Or heard her tell them

I love you

 

I knew her – once

Every inch, every moment

Every favorite thing

I knew her music, her food, her stories

Where did it go wrong?

 

Knowing her is heaven when she’s here and hell when she’s gone

 

You can’t miss what you didn’t know

If you never saw her dance, you can’t miss the beauty

 

I miss her beauty

I miss her laugh

I miss her jokes

I miss her music

I miss her style

I miss her voice

I miss her

I miss her

God, I miss her