I never wanted to write this.

This journal exists because Laura died, and everything fell apart. I needed somewhere to put the pain, the panic, the ache that doesn’t stop. I needed a place to speak the love that still lives in me, even after death.

It started with messages on her Facebook wall because I couldn’t bear to stop talking to her. I couldn’t bear the silence. I couldn’t bear the emptiness. So I kept writing. One day at a time. One heartbreak at a time. Those messages became letters. These letters became this journal.

This journal isn’t polished. It’s not poetic. It’s what it looks like when the love of your life is taken from you, and you’re left holding their memory with shaking hands, trying to figure out how to keep breathing.

This is grief.
This is love.
This is survival.

These are my letters to Laura.