Yeah so, i don't really know what i'm doing here, or what to write or whatever, but I guess it's just for the sake of writing and recap, or something. So, my girlfriend, passed away on the ninth of last month, which was August. We'd been dating for three years ten months and sixteen days then, I guess that's pretty much close to the four year mark. Her name was Katie, and she was the most beautiful thing i'd ever seen, still is, I was happy to see her every minute of any day, whatever the cause. Sure we'd fight, alot but it all resolved in the end. It was around elevenish, I was driving back to ours, in a bit of a slur, not drunk of anything like that, just that we'd argued that morningand there was a bit of a tension in the air. I guess my mind must have slipped me but one minute I was driving the next a car stopped in front of me and I didn't think to stop too, she was screaming and I was screaming and there was noise and pain, hot hot pain. I don't understand why I was the one that escaped barely bruised, dislocated wrist and the like and she with a broken neck, doesn't seem right does it? I guess the whole point of writing this stuff down is to share and get advice, but honest to god, I wish i could trade my flesh for her bones. She was the one with the dreams and I didn't give a shit as long as i'd make her happy She'd tolerate my insufferable idiocy and love me all the same. She'd love waking up to the smell of coffee in the morning, the way she liked it, no milk three sugars. I guess in a sense i'm a bit of an ass, i mean it's been a month and three days, and it still seems like it was all yesterday. I mean i still make her coffee and put her shit in the tumbbledryer to make it warm, throw away her coffee at four because she didn't finish it. I've stopped making two dinners now because, well. I don't want any and she doesn't need any. And as it were it seems that, hard as I try, she's always there, not in a good way. Like something's turned my beautiful girl into a resentful stranger. And I can't burn her out, or cut her out, because she won't listen to me. Why would she, I wouldn't. Now I guess i've written past my welcome and I'm dragging on and on, but i guess all i want is, i don't even know, the secret of getting past it.