The six stages of grief

Isolation

Dear Nicklaus,

I haven't seen Alex since that day. tyler comes over often, he brings soup and something to read. some days, i wish he wouldn't. others, if he didn't, I'm sure i would have already joined you. i don't ever feel like getting out of bed. remember the hikes we used to take? and the runs we used to share? they're long since memories.

I'm tired all the time now. my boss called to tell me that if i didn't show up tomorrow i was fired. i told him i quit.

i miss you so much it hurts. i've lost 15 pounds already. i think it's because i always throw away tyler's soup once he leaves. he brought your things back. or at least the ones that weren't covered in your blood.

i've been sleeping in your shirts. the ones that still smell like you. you smell like smoke and Wood and the forest. you smell like rain and the cold. you smell like you. and god what would i give to see you again.

your funeral is tomorrow. i don't know how i'm gonna manage it. i don't want to see anybody. i just want to be alone now. i've never slept like i have recently and i think the wifi bill is due. i never use it anymore, so it can go out.

Alex called today. he asked if he could come over. i really didn't feel like seeing anyone, but i told him he's always welcome. he invited ty too, and we shared dinner then. it was nice.

i went directly to our room after.

Everywhere I go people tell me how sorry they are, and how it's gonna be okay.

I know it won't be. It was my fault. You wanted blue and I chose red.

Ray