So, the school called the other day. They want to do a memorial page in the yearbook. I'm grateful that they think enough of Christopher to memorialize him in the yearbook. It's just so hard to continue to but that kind of stuff together. I keep thinking, I shouldn't be doing this. I should be arguing with Christopher about wheather or not I've paid for the yearbook. Every year, he would tell me he needed yearbook money, and every year, I'd think I gave it to him, only to find out I put the money somewhere where I wouldn't forget to give it to him. This is so unfair, so unreal, so horrible. I see his smile and want to cry. I see his smile and my heart swells with pride at his beauty, not only the way he looked, but the inner beauty that shone through his eyes. It's so weird and surreal. These feelings. Sometimes its like this is all just a game. Like he's not really gone and only I know the truth. I'm tired of playing this game. I want him back with me physically. I want to hold him and joke with him. I want to yell at him to turn down that God forsaken music. I want to hear him and his sister arguing about the tv remote. I want to see him roll his eyes when his dad begins a lecture. God, I miss my baby. I wish beyond wish that I could be with him. That we were all together again. Our family. Us four. Table for four, please. How many tickets do you need? Four. Four. Four. Four. I HATE BEING THREE!