InsaneJournal

I can't do this anymore, sometimes I miss them so much that it hurts to breathe. They've gone ; nearly a year without word now and all I have left are the photographs I took to Europe an a zip bag with splinters of a wand in it. How can this be enough?

Sometimes I wake up in the night and  I can't think for the weight pressing down on me. I've started to forget about the smallest things . I was in the pharmacists several months ago and the girl behind the counter was wearing the same perfume as Mum and it hit me suddenly. The scent brought back so many memories : of being tucked up in bed, or hugged before she'd accompany dad to an event.

She even used to wear it around the house - she'd spritz some on for dad coming home and give me a grin before letting Helen and I touch the bottle. Now I'm the grown up and can wear all the perfume I want and yet, all I really want is my parents. And my sister ; my bright, effevescent sport obsessed sister. I want her to come back ; I want dad and I to walk up the cobbled hill in our village towards the pub. I want to watch her face when she tries their dark, bitter local beer for the first time.

My life is so full of wants ; as much as I know I'm lucky to be here ; to work in a job I love, to have my friends, to be part of the Order...

I'd swap everything to run away and be with them. Wherever they are.