Pippa, You're gone now, and you'll never read this. But, you meant the world to me. You know you did. I fell in love with you instantly. You brought me up when I was upset. You made me so happy. You didn't deserve this. You should be in bed right now, dreaming about The Sats or Lea. But... no one can turn back time. I can't bring you back, though I wish I could. I wish there was some way I could reassure that I'm going to be okay, but I'm not so sure that I'm going to be. At least not for a while. Not with the plans we had. This is the fourth time I've cried today. I broke down last night. I threw things, and I ended up curling up in a ball, crying my eyes out on the floor until I fell asleep. I've listened to the song Dreaming With a Broken heart by John Mayer about 300 times. I've been looking at pictures of you. I can't stop myself. I just miss you so fucking much, and there's nothing I can do to bring you back to life. I like to think you're with me. Like you're keeping me safe. Please, come to me at one point. Josie and I are waking up at seven in the morning on Friday, the day of your funeral. We're lighting candles. I'll probably sob. We'll be paying our respects. I love you. I've never loved anyone more than I love you. I really do miss you, too. There are so many people that do. "Was she really here? Is she standing in my room? Well, she's not. 'Cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone." Rest in peace, Buttercup. I will love you until the day I die.