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

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