January 17th, 2012
I think I’m going insane.
I swear to fucking god I saw him today. I swear.
I went out for the first time since I found his body. I wouldn’t have, but I was out of alcohol and that’s pretty much all that stops me from driving myself mad thinking about him now. So I went out to buy some more. There’s one not far from the flat Jim and I share. Used to share, I guess. So I walked. No point in taking out one of Jim’s stupidly expensive cars when I didn’t need to. I drew a lot of rather disturbed looks as I walked; couldn’t blame them. I must look awful. I haven’t showered since he died. Haven’t shaved either. I can’t bring myself to wash the blood off my hands, either, which is stupid. I guess I feel like it’s the only thing I have left of him. Which is sort of true. Still, stupid. Most of it has flaked off by now, though, so it’s hard to tell what it is. Thankfully. Otherwise I’d most likely get arrested or something.
Whatever. That’s not the point.
When I got to the store, I wasn’t really looking at anyone. I had my head down and my hood pulled up to try and dissuade some of the glances people kept throwing my way. As I was looking at the different types of scotch and remembering how that certain one used to be Jim’s favourite when I felt someone staring at me. Thinking it was another curious or scornful person, I turned around to tell them to mind their own fucking business.
But it was him.
I swear to god it was. Same brown eyes, same brown-black hair, same smug little smirk. And he was smirking, too. His ‘I know something you don’t’ smirk. And he winked at me. And then I closed my eyes and covered them with my hands because fucking hell I AM GOING INSANE and when I opened them… he was gone.
I ran straight home without buying any liquor, which I’m seriously regretting now. And I know what I saw wasn’t a drug induced hallucination because I wasn’t high. Wasn’t drunk, either. So either I’m going mad, or… I’m going mad. That’s really the only explanation. I’m insane.
Or maybe this is an isolated incident. That can happen, right? People think they see loved ones after their death? It goes away, doesn’t it? Maybe I’m not insane. Maybe I’m just… still in denial. Or whatever that stage of grief is. Because I really, REALLY don’t want him to be dead.
If only I could be stupid enough to let myself believe that he’s not.