This is the hardest thing I have ever done.
My roommate, Jess, passed away on Monday of two weeks ago. She was in a bad car accident and never woke up. Surviving this loss is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It sits like a weight on my chest and drags me down to where everything that's happy is wrong. I'm sulky, I'm disagreeable, I cry at the drop of a hat... I'm angry with a God I don't believe in.
I want to believe. I want to believe that she's in heaven and that everything is great and that she had some special mission here to fill our lives with whatever joy she brought. She was good at that. She was honest and understanding and funny and caring... she was one of my favorite people even though I only knew her for 6 months. Instead I just keep imagining her there at the viewing, in a coffin, nothing left of who she was but a body. And that body is now tucked away in the ground, off in some far corner of an astoundingly large cemetary, a highlighted rectangle on a map.
I will never hear her laugh again. I will never see her smile. I will never hear her yell at the dogs or see her play with Harvey or paint her toes or dance around the kitchen with a glass of wine.
I'm lost in it. I don't know how to get out.
