I can't be there tomorrow. I can't do it. I've been avoiding the fact that he's dead for a week now. I can't do it. I just can't I can't I can't. Because so much is gone. And I can't and everything is all jumbled up and my words don't make sense and I keep smiling and laughing like everything's ok and I can't tell Jeff because if I start crying I swear it won't stop and I just can't and I'm breaking inside. Because I do miss him. And I'm so glad that the last time I saw him I told him I loved him and that he made me so happy. Because he made me so very happy. Always, even when everyone else was bothered. And he was my advocate and he told Roger that Jeff was lucky to have me and that I was more than his equal and for the first time that entire day I didn't feel inadequate, and he cried the day he found out I had sabotaged the pastor to save his family and he said "thank you, thank you, thank you"... over and over again and I cried then, for his loss and his sadness. He fed me endlessly. So many eggs and potatoes. He told me stories and stopped Timothy from harassing me as best he could, and drove for endless miles on mission trips and told me about his Jesus and this is one giant run on sentence and I just can't. I could tell a thousand stories but I can't. I can't. I am just so sad he's gone. Charlie, I miss you. But he's dead so it doesn't matter. It just seemed right to have something here, the day before we say goodbye. And even though this is terrible, I will improvise this later, fix it, make it clearer.
But right now, I just can't.
