Dear Harry

You've been gone for two weeks now. I haven't been coping well. The boys have even sent me to a therapist to help me forget. But I can't forget. You're all I ever think about. Your luscious curls, the way you smile lights up a room, your green eyes that I love so much. You're impossible to forget. I don't want to forget.

Of course the boys are worried about me. I'm even worried about me. My therapist is worried as well, and that's why she has handed me this journal, so I can write down my innermost thoughts. I have to give it to her every week to read over, but I just feel so weird giving it to her. Most of my thoughts revolve around you, so I guess that's why she wants to read it over, to make sure I'm handling everything well.

But to be honest, I'm not, and yes I'm fairly aware she will read this. But the truth has got to come out sooner or later, yeah? She never specifically told me what to write, but just that I have to write. So I'm writing to you. Starting from day one.


60. Day ninety-one

I spent today at the park, sitting on the benches reading my journal while the girls played on the playground.
I’ve written a lot Harry, but it’s not enough. It’s never going to be enough.
After taking the girls out for ice cream, and spending a couple hours with mum outside by the fire we had started, I said my final goodbyes.
I held them so tightly in my arms, I swear they couldn’t breathe. I hugged them with all of the strength I had, letting them know how much I loved them. I kissed my mother on the cheek, telling her how much I loved her as well as the girls. I even hugged Mark as well. When he told me to come around again soon, I could feel the tears begin to start, and hastily made my way towards the car.
It was the last time I would ever be seeing them.

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