I can’t

Grief is a bitch. Grief can kiss my ass. Grief is ruining my life. Grief is making Carter suffer at school and in his head. Grief is surrounding both of us. It is everywhere and I am doing the best I can to keep my head above water. But I feel myself being pulled down. Like I have weights around my ankles and I don’t know if I am strong enough to hold us both up with the extra weight.

I should be sleeping. I should have taken the sleeping pill that I need to be able to sleep. But instead, I am sitting here. Thinking about him. I can’t stop. I can’t get him out of my mind. I can’t stop picturing his face. I can’t stop looking at his photos. I can’t stop watching videos. I can’t stop watching the video that his best friend sent me that has him laughing.

I can’t stop. Even this screenshot of him from the video. Laughing. Having fun. His genuine laugh that those of us who truly knew him knew was the REAL laugh.

I can’t stop. This screenshot is from a video his friend took that night. This was probably only maybe an hour before he was taken from us. From me. My heart was once connected to his. My heart once kept his beating. We were connected. I gave him life. And how without him here, my heart doesn’t want to keep beating. My heart doesn’t want to beat without his. My heart doesn’t want to beat after it was unable to help keep his beating that night nearly 3 months ago. I keep staring at his face. Into his gorgeous eyes and wish I could have protected him. Wish I could have kept his massive ass encased in bubble wrap forever. I wish he’s stayed home that night. Or had left a minute earlier. Or a minute later. Or that that asshole had looked before turning. Or that he hadn’t have been driving at all since he shouldn’t have been anyway. I wish I’d told him I loved him just one more time. So many “I wish” moments. Staring at that beautiful face and I just picture him lying in the casket. I picture him looking like him but yet not him. Slightly distorted. Not counting the makeup they put on him. And it just makes me cry even more because I know exactly why he looks not like himself. Why his brow ridge was too pronounced. His eyes weren’t quite right. His neck. Fuck. I am surprised I didn’t accidentally knock over the casket when I had to grab it for support when I saw him for the first time. I hadn’t seen him since the morning of the accident as I was leaving for work and he was getting home and we were just passing each other. That brings another “I wish” because I wish I’d stopped to give him one last hug. I have wracked my brain for almost 3 months to try to remember when I last hugged him. I can’t remember. I am trying so hard and I can’t. It can’t have been too long before but I can’t remember and it makes the pain worse.

I can’t shake the fog in my head.

I can’t people anymore.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t stop crying.

I just need my baby back.