Time

June 26, 2026

We finally received the crash report and the medical examiner's report.

I don't know what I was expecting. The only good thing... the injury would have caused him to lose consciousness almost immediately. Unsurvivable within minutes. He did not suffer.

I was hoping for something else. Like, why did he swerve. But even if they knew... what does it change? Nothing.

My boy is gone. That's it. Why is it so hard to accept that fact?

It's been 2 months. I've never gone this long without speaking to him, or seeing him... for 21 years. My brain is so confused.

I hate this so much.

I can't wrap my head around any of it. I wrote his obituary. I saw him in a casket. I wear his ashes in a charm around my neck. I know he's no longer here... but I FEEL like he'll walk through the door any minute. Or text me. Or call me.

It feels like insanity. Like I can't tell what's real and what isn't. I can't get a handle on time. It still feels like May 29th. I know it's not... but I have no concept of time anymore. It's not moving at all, and it's flying by, both at once.

Like I've been split into two people. One is sitting at my desk at 11:39... receiving the worst call of my life. Perpetually. The other is flying through time, day after day, not understanding which day it is, or how they keep slipping by.