(Once again if you are reading this and haven't read the rest of the series I recommend doing so first for context! Masterpost)
The slow suffocation of replaying the moments you wished you never lived.
Waking up that morning shattered my soul.
Seeing her lying in my arms, cold and unmoving. Dead. Empty pill bottle on the bed beside us. It broke me in ways I can't explain, with feelings I didn't know I could feel.
She herself looked at peace for the first time since our Sam died. As if she was asleep. Not in any pain at all.
I cried harder than I have ever. She taught me that crying wasn’t weak. And now, she's the reason for the tears. I remember screaming and shouting; yelling about how it wasn't fair, about how she can't be gone. But I couldn't escape the truth that I held tight in my arms.
I didn't know what to do with her. With my girl. I knew I couldn't keep a dead body, but it was so hard to let go. I held her for what felt like minutes but could've been hours. I cried into her shoulder, and ran my hand through her hair once more. But eventually I called the police.
Then I called François. I didn't know who else I should've.
The police came and took her, said she needed to go for examining. One of them stayed and questioned me. As if I had killed her.
It wasn't my fault, right?
Sam's Dad, François, came nearly as fast as the police.
He stayed with me for a while after. He hugged me, the same way he did when sam died. He knew Arynn. Of course he did. She had done so much for our Sam.
It was good to have him there. I don't know what I would've done if he wasn't there. What I could've done.
What broke me more than that morning is what I found after.
I was looking through our room the day after. Or maybe the week. I'm unsure. Time worked differently during... that.
I was looking though her belongings, remembering her. Still holding tight to her in thoughts. Her bedside drawer was full of little trinkets she kept. Figurines, little rocks, art she did, a sketchbook she was using for design.
But in there was also a note. One she clearly left behind.
If you're reading this, I've gone. And I'm sorry.
I want you to know that it wasn't your fault. I'm telling you this, because I know you, and I know you'll blame yourself. Please don't.
I've been struggling. And I know you know. I've seen your effort in helping. And I'm so sorry that I left you this way. But I couldn't keep going on.
I regret not spending more time with you.
I regret not telling you so many more things.
Though, I suppose now isn't to be talking about regrets, is it?
Have I ever told you how much I love your smile? How nice it looks when your eyes light up? I noticed every time you stared at me. You're not subtle, love.
I love how strong you are. How you were a comforting strength. How you'd never hurt a fly. I admire you, Cameryn. I love you. Please don't cry. But if you do, remember, it's not because you're weak. It's because you're feeling.
Please don't hold on. I know right now, depending on when you find this, but please. For me. I'd hate to see you sad. So please, my love, move on.
I'd wish I could say I cried, but truthfully I had no tears left to do such things.
Instead, I just sat there. Leaning against the bed, note in one hand, her sketchbook in the other.
The house was left messy for ages.
Unwashed clothes layed the floor, rubbish where it shouldn't be. Bin unemptied. I couldn't get myself out of bed for that next period of time, and i realised how she must've felt. Out of energy. Tired, alone, and overall ready to go.
François stayed in our spare room for a while. He was a great help. He made breakfast, and forced me to get out of bed some days. He planned most of the funeral. I feel bad, because he did all this work whilst I lay around. I didn't know how to feel then.
Now it's the funeral. From here I can see that Arynn’s mother hasn't come. We invited her. though she may be too far gone in her own grief.
François told me to write this speech. He said it might help to get it out. To talk about what Arynn meant to me. And I can see him from here too, him and his wife. To everyone standing in this church here, from Her friends old an new, to distant relatives, thank you.
We all knew what type of person Arynn was. She was the kindest soul I've ever met. She helped me feel things I didn't know I could. She was smart, brave, and always had a good sense of wit and humour. Her smile could've lit up one thousand dark rooms. I know it will take some of us, including me, a long time to heal.
And even as she lies here beside me in this glorified wooden box that definitely isn't good enough for her, I hope her memory lives on with all of you, but I know for a fact it will always, always, live on with me. In my heart.
