Submission 140

Dear Emma

Tired. Broken. Lost.

That’s how I’ve felt every day since losing you. I don’t think I will ever accept what has happened, and that you are gone. It’s hard to find joy in anything and I mostly pretend so other people don’t become concerned about me. How can I enjoy anything when my world has been shattered? It feels like my life has been put on pause while everyone else keeps living.

Each morning I wake up and there is a moment of peace before the realisation hits - this is not just a nightmare, this is life now.

I try to keep busy because it’s in the quiet moments that I think about you, and my throat goes tight and the tears fall. It can happen anywhere, anytime - driving, eating dinner, walking Duke. Whatever this is, I don’t want to feel it.

You and I went through so much together. I feel like I took our relationship for granted, looking back on things. I wish I’d had more time with you. But how was I ever meant to know that our time together was limited?

I can’t help but feel upset that I wasn’t enough of a reason to stay, that the other people you left behind weren’t enough either. Why is that? You are so loved you were by your family and friends?

I would give anything to have you message me at the last minute to organise to hang out. I can still picture you walking through my door, complaining about the dogs jumping on you and getting fur all over your black clothes.

I keep opening our messages expecting you to have read all the ones I’ve sent in the last 5 months.

My heart shatters at the thought of you not being around to see your nephew grow up. I can’t even recall the last time you saw him before you died. I wish I had more pictures of you two together. You missed his first birthday. I’m sure he would have been spoilt rotten by you. But no presents could compare to having his Aunty around.

I am scared - scared of forgetting what you look like and how your voice sounds, scared of forgetting our memories together. It feels like every day I am grappling at anything to feel close to you still.

It sounds selfish. You were in pain and I wanted you to stay for me, and for others. But your pain would have been short term in comparison to this. You didn’t have to die. I would have done anything to help you get through the struggles. What you have done, this is a life sentence - for both you and me.

I don’t know what I believe in exactly but wherever you are, I hope you are watching over me. Please give me more signs that you are around. I think it might help my pain a little bit to know that you are there.

I hope you are at peace. I hope you are waiting for me.