Insomnia [j.g]

21

To Faith

Today, I had opened your journal and read it all.

I feel like an ass.

I have decided to also, write to you. I am writing on the back of the pages you once wrote on.

Today I have seen how amazing your writing is, poems in the back of your book, letters in the front. And attached to the leather cover, rose petals.

We all miss you.

I can't stop crying.

I can't stop thinking about you.

I like to tell myself that I have been hurting more than you did, but that is far from true, and it hurts to even think that.

I was invited to your funeral. There were allot of people who wanted to come, but it was private. About 100 people came.

Hunter came, she was clinging on to me for dear life, leaving wet patches in my suit.

Everyone was an emotional wreck.

Today, I have realized that one mistake can lead to another, and eventually break you.

I refuse to believe you're gone though.

I saw parts to you that no one else have seen before, and that is my first part that was poetic. I was hoping writing in your journal would inspire me to become a poetic genius like you, but nothing so far.

Maybe I should answer your questions?

Why. Because I thought I didn't feel anything between us anymore. I had kissed her, when you walked in my stomach dropped. As soon as I had done it I instantly regretted it.

People come up to me at school , still telling me that it's my fault that you're gone, and I'm with that.

It's my fault that you're gone.

I had grabbed your perfume once, spraying all my clothes. I have it on my dresser now, just like you had.

My necklace that we both had is now attached to my neck, like if I take it off I would be ripping off my skin.

You're not gone, you can't be.

Now, I am the one sitting here thinking
"Why" but I know the answer. Me.

Now, it's my turn to say

I miss you.

-Jack