I wish I could call you. I know that I shouldn't so I won't. I wish you knew how much I am hurting. How I can't stop crying for more than 4 hours. I know that you have a life outside of work. Maybe you're working today too, at the hospital. You know that it's my mom's birthday today. She would've been 76. I guess that's kinda old but you're only 65. When I think back on the times I've asked you why you didn't call me to check in on me I remember you saying, "I know you're OK. It's you who thinks that you're not ok. You're not going to die but it is going to hurt a lot. All I can do from the phone is try to get you out of your head and you can do that on your own now."

I know you're right about all of that. I guess I'd just like to hear you say that I'm going to be okay even though I know it somewhere deep down inside. F***! I'm on my lunch break crying. I think I'm gonna steal some tissues from work since I ran out at home. Now my eyes are red, nose is red, face is wet, shirt is wet, and I feel dead inside.