Seems like every other night I let it through my guard. Last night was longer but less intense sadness. Saturday night it hit me out of nowhere, I don't remember what triggered it, but I suddenly found myself welling up. Felt lost and helpless and not up to the task of grieving her.
It's a pill I have to swallow one jagged shard at a time. Seems like the pill is about the size of my house. But pointier.
I haven't had any dreams about her yet. Day 13.
She's the first person I really loved that has died. Not to say I didn't love Biff or my grandparents, but they were more like acquaintances to be honest. Only saw them once a year or less. This is my little girl. My Smoochie.
Ippy. My phone knows that word.
I'm considering getting a tattoo. She had this beetle on her shoulder.
That or, "Goodnight, Smoochie". Or something. I saw where you can have ashes infused into tattoo ink. Creepy. I won't do that. Just something small where I can see it. I was hoping to find out who the artist that did her beetle was and go there.