Sunday, 1:53 PM
I am almost glad that her body is covered by that wooden casket. I dont know if I would be able to see her without touching her face or grabbing her hand. I need one more touch or glimpse to reassure me that she really is gone. I am not crying like the rest. I am sitting stone cold next to her grandmother, who I never got to meet. Inside me, there is rage and pain, over ruled by love for her.
