Driving to school this morning, I saw a long funeral procession. Men in dark blue uniforms perched on motorcycles with blinking red and blue lights escorted the long line of cars, everyone dressed in their proper dark attire. Of course, my mind immediately shot to the last funeral I went to, my father's, in late July. I knew I had to sit and
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it's hard for me to imagine this happening to you not so long ago. it seems i have a somewhat comfortable cushion of time between my tragedy and now. it's so hard to forget the bad. but i don't think you can just simply forget the bad without forgetting the good. they go hand in hand. i'm still learning to focus on the good ( ... )
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You know you didn't have to tell me a lot of the things you did. People with tragedies like ours have marked souls. Our eyes are a bit more sensitive to grief, I think.
I'm sure that the sadness still hangs around me, and that makes me not so fun to be with. But I'm learning how to focus on the happiness and forget the sadness. It's hard more often than not.
I'm here for you, just like you're here for me.
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your soul shone through so beautifully with this post.
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If you need any company, im here for you sweetheart.
Call me, come over, whatever. Please just let me know if there is anything i can do for you.
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Youre so cute!
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But at least I know I'll have a best friend to turn to.
You know you've helped me more than anyone ever has/has ever attempted/will ever be able to. You're my angel, and you know this. I've told you many a time. The best anti-depressant/counselor/grief therapy a girl could ask for. I love you.
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