I don't know where to begin. On Friday I got the news. His best friend texted me and told me that my boyfriend of two years was found dead. He followed it up with a link to news article about it. He died on Halloween. He was found a few days later dead in the bushes. When he wasn't replying to my texts I figured he had gotten arrested at the party and was doing a week in jail, because it's happened before. I was worried, but I rationalized it. I knew the cops had showed up and busted the party, and he was on probation. Cause of death is still unclear. But I should have known when his friends didn't know where he was either. He called me on his way to the party he died. He told me he was gonna be out for the night but not to worry, he won't get in any trouble. He said he'd call me in the morning. I told him to have fun and be careful and that I loved him. The next day came. I never got that call. And that was the very last time I ever spoke to him. I have spent the last few days kicking and screaming and crying and drinking and listening to old voice mails, looking at all of our pictures, and reading old text messages. I don't know if it's comforting or agonizing but I can't stop. I can't get out of bed. I can't do anything but miss him. I wish I could explain or put into words exactly how I feel right now but I can't. There aren't words that exist that can properly explain how heartbroken I am. The unnaturalness of his absence makes me want to rip my hair out I miss him so bad and I still can't believe it and I just can't understand why he died. He didn't deserve it. I just want to universe to give him back to me and let me have him for just a while longer. I'm so scared that wherever he is he's lost and alone and confused... People keep telling me it'll be okay. It's not okay, and it'll never be okay, because the person I fell in love with and planned on spending my life with died alone with no one there to help him and he's gone. Right now, I have so much guilt and anger building up as the day goes by that I wasn't there. I didn't get to tell him how sorry I am for every single mean thing I've ever said that I never meant when we would fight. I didn't get to tell him how amazing he is and how happy I am to have him. There's so much I never said. Well actually, I suppose I did say it before, but I wanna say it again. There's so much I wanna tell him. He wasn't just my boyfriend, he was my best friend, and my rock, and the only person I knew I count trust and count on above anybody else. Everything I've ever complained about or gotten sad about looks so stupid and pointless and petty compared to this. Nothing compares to this. He gave me the last years of his life. We were inseparable, for the most part. I would have gone to that party with him, but I was caught up in something else and figured he needed to go have fun anyway. Guys need their guy time. I was wrong. If I had gone, he'd be alive. Or we would both be dead. I don't know. He gave me his last time on earth, and I didn't realize how precious and sacred every single moment of it was. I didn't know. I thought we had our whole lives ahead of us, so I just lived and I laughed and I loved him with everything I had not knowing that he would be gone soon. And now he's gone. And the world seems colorless and empty and cold. The mornings, I've discovered, are the worst. I fall asleep and dream of him being alive and okay and with me and smiling his adorable crooked smile with a dimple in only one cheek and his loud contagious laughter that you can't help but smile when you hear it. He's so real in my dreams. I feel him there. I wake up, and for a few seconds I don't know. I'm still happy from my dreams. Then boom. I remember everything. It all hits me like a truck, and the pain comes back brand new just like hearing the news of his death again. He dies over and over again in my head. I don't know what to do. I can't think, I can't move, all I can do is feel and cry and scream and desperately try to keep a grip on my sanity. I just want him back. It's the only thing that can make the pain go away. I'm afraid to try and feel happiness. I'm so scared that if he sees me smile or laugh he'll think I don't care. How dare I even think about attempting to feel happy when he's dead in the ground? How dare I do anything that isn't a representation of the pain of the loss? How dare I try to live without him? He promised me that he'd be around forever and he'd always be there for me. I thought he was the strongest person in the world and that he could handle anything that comes his way. I thought the world of him. He meant everything to me. When he was in that bush in the dirt dying, I had no idea. I was sitting across from my sister having drinks and laughing and smiling and having fun while he was dying alone. I continued through my week worried and sad that he wasn't around, but whenever he went missing in the past he was just in jail and he'd pop up like a week or two later and be like hey sorry about that, and explain what he's in trouble for. I'd get mad that he got himself in trouble again, but I'd tell him not to do it again and tell him I love him and I'm glad he's back. That's what I figured would happen again. Never in a million years would I have guessed that he died that night. And I am mentally beating myself up for every bit of that week. I'm so disgusted with myself. He was dead, and I didn't know. I went through those 6 days like any other, being the happy me that I used to be. Now it's like my life has been split into two parts. Before and after his death. When he died, he took a big piece of my heart along with him. Now I'm just not the same. I doubt I ever will be. But I guess I'm here because I want someone to talk to. My friends and family don't know what to say. They've never lost anyone before. They don't know what to do about me. And I'm sick of hearing people say that they're sorry or asking me if I'm okay. I'm not okay. And I need to talk instead of drowning my pain in alcohol and cigarettes and being the sad pathetic heartbroken lump I've been, not trying to get a hold of myself. I need to know that somebody else has felt what I'm feeling and made it out alive. Cause you know what... It feels like I'm dying.