The grief I feel is so physical it seems impossible that I am still living; that my heart continues to beat when it has been wrenched apart. I want to fix an image of him in my head, but all I can see when I close my eyes is his body, still and lifeless in my arms. I let him go, and I will never forgive myself for that.
I know there are sections in I LET YOU GO – this one included - that are hard to read. I know that because they were hard to write; because I cried into my keyboard for Jenna, because so much of Jenna was me. I’m sorry if they were triggering for you. We are, as a society, very bad at talking about grief, and I believe very strongly that we need to change that, to protect our mental health and make it easier for sufferers to reach out.
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