Day 1:
Enjolras. You are dead. This is the one thing I had never planned for. I feel my heart tear in two every time your name is mentioned. I know I never gained the courage to tell you that I loved you, and for that, I am so very sorry.
I blame myself for this. I know I shouldn't. But what if I had been sober all this time? What if I had been there? What if I had died in your place? Oh, Enjolras, it should not have been you that left. It should have been me. The world needs you. I am a useless piece of dirt.
I find myself not believing that you are gone. I find myself imagining that you are here with me. I loved you, and now you are gone. But I am waiting for somebody to come to me and say it was a dream, watching you fall. It wasn't though. I saw it with my own eyes. You are dead and gone. And I remain.
I will never be able to erase the image from my mind. Your red flag falling like a ribbon of blood down the wall, you behind it. Your dead body hanging there.
The only thing I know how to do, currently, is drink it away. So that is what I will do.
Until tomorrow.
