Remnant [h.s]

chapter twelve

The more you love the more you suffer.

☆ ☆ ☆

Harry Styles

I didn't really know what I was doing anymore. I was going through the motions each day, but in all honesty I didn't want to be here anymore and I didn't want to be entertaining this. I was just kind of on autopilot and the world kept spinning, though all I really wanted to do was to sleep for eternity.

I suppose these feelings weren't unusual, especially the day before a funeral that had me tearing my hair out.

Tomorrow was the big day, the day when we all have to be brave even when we don't want to.

I wasn't sure how tomorrow was going to go, despite my intense planning and hours spent awake at night trying to figure out how to pay for all of this and trying to rack my brain to remember all of Jazz's favourite things. It wasn't as easy as I had always assumed.

Of course, I knew planning a funeral wasn't easy at the best of times, and I knew it was going to tear me apart and take all I have, I wasn't an idiot.

But this was like no other, the pain was killing me and running me dry. I cry at all hours of the day now, there isn't a gap where I get a break and I can just breathe or forget about all we've lost. I just cry and cry and cry. I never stop and I can't see a light at the end of the tunnel.

I had people around me, I had friends reaching out and family trying to guide me through or portray their input. I had so many people telling me what to do and what was right or wrong, it often felt like my head was just going to explode. I couldn't take anymore.

I didn't believe there was any right or wrong way to do a funeral, and there was no right or wrong way to deal with death and loss. I didn't know what I was doing and I'd hold my hands up to admit that, but I was not in the wrong at any moment.

I've done all I could and I'm still doing all I can. But there's only so much until my tired body wears out.

Arwen had been a huge help, often staying round late to help plan things out, she's bought a multitude of dresses for Binx to pick the perfect one, she's ordered little suits for Sully to wear and she's even helped me with whatever the hell I'm supposed to wear.

If it was up to me, I'd declare the funeral to be full of colour and life, just like Jazz was. I'd ask for everyone to be wearing bright colours, or perhaps not even bright, just casual comfortable clothes, something they'd wear on a day to day basis. None of this formal crap. Jazz never liked that.