It’s been six days since we lost Hannah. Her funerals aid in two. I have been trying so hard to think of something to say to her. There were many things that I should have done while she was still alive, but not one of them was grandstand speech appropriate. Her family and friends didn’t need to hear all the private things I had to say to her. I think so that I can get it off my chest that I’ll write her a letter and I’ll sneak it in with her somehow. I know she won’t be able to read it. She’s gone after all, but the sentiment makes me feel better regardless.
Flashback.
“Okay, I better go”, Hannah’s lowering me into the armchair after a night of fun. Suddenly I don’t want her to go. She’s giggling just a little. She’s such a funny drunk. She goes to leave, but I grab her gently by the
