Death doesn't let you say goodbye. It just carves holes in your life, in your future, in your heart.
“I don’t know if you know this — you probably do, but you were put to rest in Glasgow. I wanted to take you home with me, to Galway, I guess that’s not home for either of us now, is it? I wanted you to be with mum, anyway. They buried you next to Darren instead. You always nagged me about it, ‘bout how I’d never came to say goodbye. I’m here now, I’m here now because of you... I’m so profoundly angry with you, Robyn. You were gonna make a difference, you and your meme loving ass were gonna do great things... I miss you. I miss you so much and I’m sorry. I should’ve done right by you, I should’ve done so many things differently. It should’ve been me... That’s how fucked up this is, look at me. Not even thirty and I’m always standing on a graveyard. I never thought I’d have to bury you, baby girl. I never— but you take care of my baby now, you hear me? And watch over me, I still need you to drag me when I’m fucking things up. I need you always...”
