I was just looking at my older entries and realized that i have only written 9 diary entries since my uncle died. Thats it. I still dont feel right. I dont know. I have some of his old things in my room and they look at me and make me sad. I have been impatient for the weather to becoem cold enough for me to start wearing his old field jacket that he used to wear all the time. it reminds of him so much and it feels so familiar to be wearing it

Its hard to really wrap you rmind aorund somene being dead, at least the full extent of hte condition, It tore me apart when i found out he died, then i was torn apart all over again when i realized how dead he was.

how dead he was. so dead that all his belongings went into boxes in ym grandmothers hosue, and so dead that i wont see him again, so dead . . so dead that when i touched his face as he lay in his coffin i felt cold for hours where our skins had met.

i can still feel it if i close my eyes, that last contact i had with him, it scares me, i felt my heart skip a beat when it happened. like i was dead too for a moment, that iw as joining him, that this cold, this chill was what he felt. But i msut remind myself that he felt nothing. nothing anymore