Still going

Kirstin died last Saturday.  Her sister was going through all the contacts in Kirstin's phone and called me with the news that night.  She tried to tell me what had happened, but my brain had kind of shut down and I didn't catch most of it.  It wasn't until I got home from work and saw Kirstin's name on my phone and realized that we wouldn't ever be able to talk again that I realized she was really gone.  I was just able to stumble into my room and close the door before I completely lost it.

I went to the service with Cris, Lindsay and Melissa, driving up to Wyoming from Denver.  It seems like the most unfair thing is coming back and having life resume as normal.  A big chunk of my soul is missing.  Something should be different to reflect that, but it's still all the same crap I was dealing with before.

It hurts the most at night, when I can't stop myself from wanting to give Kirstin a call.  We leaned on each other for support so often that I feel like I'm stumbling every time I turn around.  Actually, I guess that really is what I'm doing, since I've spent most of the time since coming back alternating between drunk and hung over.  It's slightly worrying on some level that I've drunk more in the past three days than I have in the last three months.  But it's the only way I can endure the memories.  The other option would be to forget, and I won't do that.