And then there was this dream....

I'm ready to leave.
I'm ready to go.
The tile of our favourite restaurant.
The last place we ever visited together.
The trips we would make to Dallas to watch Cattle Decapitation.
The arguing about where we're going to eat even though we always end up at Chilis.
The way he always thought I was kissing his back but I was really actually cuddling in my own way.
The smell of him when he got home from work.
The ridiculous way he brushed his hair because he had a 'sensitive' scalp.
God damnit.
This is too much for me.
All of this goes away with tyme.
But I had this terrible dream yesterday when I was napping.
I was at my house and Josh walked in.
And I just started crying and crying and he came up to me and said that he had to fake his own death to protect me.
And for the rest of the dream I was following him and never leaving his side.
It felt so. fucking. real.
It was Josh.
He was dirty and his hair had grown out.
But it was him.
And when I woke up, I felt lyke someone had fucking stabbed me.
I woke up and realized that none of it was real.
And that he really wasn't there.
And he was never going to come back.
This isn't someone taking a trip.
There's not going to be a return date.

I know that I'm letting it affect my health.
I smoke way too many cigarettes and it's just making my stomach problems worse.
Drinking and not knowing when to stop.
Worrying and thinking so much that I get sick.
Forgetting to eat.
But I don't know any other way.
I don't know how to say, ok this is how it's going to be. let's get better.

I know that we weren't dating when he died.
But he was the first person I ever really truly loved.
And probably the last for a very long tyme.
He's my baby.
He was mine.
And yes we both fucked up equally.
And if I had to go back and do it all over again.
I wouldn't hesitate to say yes.

:[