I don't know why.
I really don't.
Most of his friend have gone several times, and some at least once a month. But not me.
Why? I keep asking myself.
All those yellow leaves are still sitting in my garage. I wanted to take them up, but I haven't yet. It's not like I haven't had the time, as I have had it. It's not like I haven't had a ride, because my mom says that she'll drive me up any time that I want to.
Was it that I just wasn't ready? I think so. I just felt in my bones that it wasn't the right time to go up there.
And now... suddenly I have this ache inside of me that is puling me towards the cemetery. Ever since the hair shaving (ok, fine, two days ago), I've felt this overwhelming urge to go. I need to go. I need to breathe in the air and sit on the muddy ground above his body. I don't know if they have to tombstone up yet, and I really don't care.
I miss you.
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