Nyctophilia

Thirty-Four.

I just got home from Lilly's funeral. There are no words in the world to describe how I felt seeing her dead body. I still haven't stopped crying.

I saw Oliver and Faye there. They offered me a seat with them if I wanted it, and I took it because I really didn't want to sit there with my mom while she looked at me pityingly. Oliver and Faye didn't say they understood what I was going through like everyone else would, but I could tell in their eyes that they did. Some things are better off left unsaid.

They told me I could hang out with them whenever I wanted. I was a bit hesitant at first, because it was like they were trying to "take me in," you know? But I finally agreed. We're watching a movie at Faye's house on Sunday.

I keep getting random flashbacks to when Lilly and I were younger. I remember when we were about twelve, we sat in your room and constructed lists of what we were going to name our children in the future. I came up with Dakota, Lucy, and Rosie, and you chose Harmony. You always loved that name.

I think I've just found the perfect name for my journal.