Had she lived, today would have been Peronne's 38th birthday. It's been 5 months, and it still feels wrong for her not to be among the living anymore. I regularly wake up sobbing, having dreamt of her in the night. I'm even crying as I type these few lines. The loss of my best friend has been very hard to bear. It's made me feel as if I've lost a big chunk of myself, not just of my history but part of who I am as well, and it's closed the door on so many possibilities ahead. Whereas before, the future always had our friendship in it, now there's a vast emptiness where that should go. It feels like an amputation, and I miss her. Sometimes, I can hear her in my head; and sometimes too, I think I can see her...but it's always either someone else, or a dream.
Also, I feel as if I've somehow failed her, as if I should have taken better care of her parents, who have always been good to me. They're sick with grief, and even though I've tried to reach them a few times, I'm very aware of the fact that I can't offer them any real comfort.
Although I'm grateful to have had her in my life, I'm angry and upset that it has come to such a sudden and irreversible end; and I'm afraid it will be a long time before I'm in a mood to celebrate on August 19th again.