Lately
I’ve been thinking about Heather more than usual. I hate the days where I don’t know how I’m going to make it to the next day knowing she’s dead. When I walked out Bret’s door last night, I smelled her for a split second. But it wasn’t what she smelled like when she was living. It was the awful smell that didn’t leave my nose for weeks after she passed away. It smelled like flowers but I hated it. It made me sick to my stomach. I hate this so much.
