It doesn't hurt as long as I don't think about it. I won't go inside tommorow. I hate visitation, and standing there, in a room, with a dead body, and all anyone can do is cry, and hug you, and proclaim their sorrow, and look at you with an "zomgdon'tbennormalshemightbreakdown" look, and I hate that, I hate that so much that I avoided eating until 11 O' clock at night, just because I wanted everyone gone. Or maybe I was just not hungry. Just like I'm not tired. Just like I'm not happy. I won't let myself be hungry. I won't let myself be tired. I won't let myself be happy. If I don't think, it doesn't hurt. I wish he was here ~Katie