I can't stop dreaming about them...

Whenever he's in my dream he's either alive and happy, or hating me.

Whether the dream is good or bad, it feels like it destroys a part of my soul.

I wake up and for a few blissful moments he's still alive. Then I remember it was a dream, and it's like he dies all over again. 

I can hear the police knocking at my door to tell me. I can feel the empty horror, I can see the faces of the people who were around me contorted…

Everyone keeps telling me to just remember the good times with him, that it'll be better if I just remember the good times.

So I try.

They make me laugh, but they hurt so much. for every happy moment that runs through my mind, I feel like my heart gets torn a bit more.

I loved him, I love him. So much, and it hurts so much.

He was goofy, and funny, and cynical.

He loved to complain about things, like pop music. He…