I’ve gone over the details again and again in my head, my heart and mind swimming, practically drowning in the torrent of emotions. And it has mostly all stayed in my head, no matter how much people have tried to make me talk about it.
But I think I’m ready to talk about it now.
I have to ease into it though, take it slow.
So let me start with the thing that is killing me to talk about, the thing that has wrenched my heart from my chest. Maybe if I get that out of the way I can move on with trying to come to terms with what happened and properly relay the events that occurred that have put me here.
Robbie is dead.
It kills me to write those words, kills me to acknowledge it -- almost as if by typing in those words I’m making it real. But it is. It is real. I avoided going to his funeral, refused to talk to anyone about his death for over a week now. But I have to face the fact. He is dead.
Okay, so I finally got that out. Robbie’s dead. It may not seem like much, but to me that’s a huge release, a giant step. Now I can begin to talk a bit about how we got from hanging out at Chapters to how he came die in such a horrific way.
But not tonight. It’s taken a lot out of me just to admit that much. I’m going to leave it at that, regroup my thoughts and emotions, and on my next post talk a little bit about the wonderful evening that so quickly and strangely turned into a nightmare.