Raise High The Roofbeams, Carpenters.

It's there, the damn acid in the pit of my stomach, the weight that I didn't think would exist. I can't swallow it, it's stuck in my throat. I keep seeing your face and feeling those strong calloused hands, hard to breathe. I don't even want to be at work because that reminds me of you, too. I don't like to be vulnerable and I don't know how it crept up on me. And I feel so silly for it, but somehow more alive than I was before.

I thought the present you gave me yesterday (my unfaltering grin) would stay with me all day today, but I can't muster it now that I know you're really gone. Today is going to be really, really long. Down to go up.