"dear fred,
today i lashed out. i didn't mean to, i was just so angry. somebody blamed me for your death and i believed it. i was the one who didn't push you out of the way.
of course george tried his best to convince me that it wasn't my fault. 'you were knocked out, how could you have prevented it?' is what he told me. and i wanted to believe him. but if i paid more attention i wouldn't have gotten stupefied and you'd still be alive.
i think about how different things would be if you were still alive. i'm positive my anger issues would no longer exist, and this paranoia i deal with from the war i could deal with you.
on friday i will be visiting st. mungo's for help with the paranoia. they also want to check the ptsd and if i'm depressed, but i know i'm just extremely sad. anyone who isn't sad when the love of their life dies is probably emotionless.
i'm so tired of trying, fred. i'm exhausted. i miss you way too much.
xx,
calla
