An Alphabet of One Shots

J Is For 'Journal'

Day 1

I have no idea how to start this thing. Is it like a diary? Should I be saying, 'Dear Journal'? This all feels so stupid. Doctor Lewis recommended that I write down how I'm feeling because I can't string a sentence together in therapy at the minute. She's hoping that by me writing it, we'll be able to work through everything together a little more clearly. I wish that this was just some pointless exercise rather than it being what it really is. How am I meant to be able to explain how I'm feeling when nothing makes sense at the minute? I feel like I'm writing what I'd say to you, so I'm going to pretend that's what this is. Maybe it'll be helpful, who knows?

It's been a week since our lives, quite literally, came crashing down. 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. All that time and I'm still so confused by how we ended up here. You were just driving home from work; it's not fair. I'm so angry. Not at you, but at the world. You were following all the rules and doing everything right, and that drunk driver destroyed everything. I'm angry that you were stopped from reaching the house. You'd messaged saying how much you were looking forward to spending the weekend with me and the twins, without any distractions, and he stopped that from happening. How can one person be so careless? Do they not realise that we don't often get to spend so long together, and we count the days for the special moments we are going to get to spend together? I'm angry that people must have seen him get behind the wheel after he left the bar, and no one stopped him. I'm angry that he's walked away with nothing but a broken arm. I'm angry that he isn't suffering the way that we are. I'm so angry.

I have to go and rescue my Mom from the twins, but I'll be back soon. I love you.

—

Day 7

The twins asked about you today. None of us knew how to explain things to them and so we've told them you're having a long sleep. I know it's a cop-out, but I don't want to darken their innocent worlds'. Elouise has made you so many cards and pictures, and Elijah said you can have Snuffles the Cat to make you feel better until he can see you again. They are so strong, Car; they definitely get that from you. Ellie has taken charge of everything and is making sure we all still function as best as we can. She told me off for buying pasta in a box yesterday. I know you'd be mad too, but we both know I'll start a fire if I try and make it fresh. She's a very feisty 5-year-old. Eli is trying to be strong. I sometimes hear him crying in his room, but as soon as I walk in, he stops. Ellie has been giving him lots of cuddles and I hear her reassuring him. He has been reading a lot. My Mom took them both to the bookstore, and he picked a book about making wishes. He said he was going to wish that his Mamma came back. I had to try so hard to hold it together when he told me. I'm trying to be strong, but it's so hard. I'll do it though. It's the least I can do.

I just need things to go back to normal. Please, come back to us. I love you.

—

Day 12

Thank you for letting us know that you're still here. We all needed the sign. It may not have been much, but it was enough to give us all that little boost we needed. The twins came to see you again today after giving me those damn puppy eyes. I tried to remind them that they will always be your 'Piccole Stelle' regardless of what happens, but it doesn't sound the same coming from my mouth as it does yours. My pronunciation made them giggle though, so I guess that is a bonus.

Writing in this way has been more helpful than I thought it would be. You've always been the only one I can be completely honest and open with. I can actually put a sentence together now, and it usually makes sense too. It feels silly to be happy about being able to talk, but Doctor Lewis said it's normal to respond to trauma the way I have been. I still can't get used to that word: trauma. You were the one that got hurt, but I'm dealing with trauma; make that make sense. I thought the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life was deal with all the crap that Lane put me through, and how I hurt you during it all, but that was nothing compared to this pain. I feel like I have a missing limb. You are the better part of me.

I don't know how to do life without you. I don't want to do life without you. Please keep sending us signs. I love you.

—

Day 20

I feel like it's been ages since I've written to you, but it's only been eight days. So much has happened. Ellie finally lost that tooth that has been wobbly forever and the tooth fairy left her double the amount of money for keeping such good care of her teeth. I know we agreed they'd always get the same amount, but you should have seen how proud she was, Car. Eli won first place at his art show. He asked me to bring his painting to you so you could see it. I'm not allowed to tell you what it is because you have to guess, although it's pretty obvious. He definitely gets his artistic abilities from Mason. My Mom got the job at the shelter helping women who have been through the same things as her. She seems so happy. I can't remember the last time I saw her smile so big. The team brought over enough food to last us for a year. Ellie relayed the pasta incident to Andy, and you can imagine how she reacted to it. Needless to say, they came up with a rota to do the grocery shopping and cook meals. The twins were over the moon, and I can just go back to being a resident pancake maker. They were going to try and make us a lasagne, but Eli straight out banned anyone from making it because it would never measure up to yours. I completely agree, but you should have seen him trying to be strict with his little arms crossed and a stern look on his face. He looked so damn adorable.

You sent us your biggest sign so far yet, and it's given us all so much hope. Doctor Lewis, who insists I call her Diane now, has decided that I don't need multiple therapy sessions a week anymore. We're going back to one a week because I actually feel like I have a handle on things at the minute. She'll still be there if I need anything, but it's nice to feel like I'm getting somewhere. We've decided I should try going back to work too. That's where I'm heading now. Whilst the twins are at school, I'm going to be on desk duty. Who would have thought I'd voluntarily take desk duty? I can't quite handle the idea of dealing with calls at the minute. I just know that my first encounter with a traffic accident of any kind is going to send me spiralling at the minute, and so we're waiting. That's all anything is at the minute: a waiting game.

I have to go now. I love you.

—

Day 30

I've been writing to you like this for a whole month now. How crazy is that? On day one, I felt like it was a stupid and pointless exercise, and now I can't imagine not writing here. This is my last entry though. It's so weird to be saying goodbye to something that has been such a big part of my life, but I can't continue with this anymore. I can now talk, and things are moving on. Life has to go on. I couldn't allow life to continue without saying goodbye though. I'm just glad it's only the journal that I'm saying goodbye to.

Thank you for fighting, Car. Thank you for coming back to me and the twins. I know we still have a long way to go and a lot of healing to do, but I know that everything will be okay. I can hear Ellie and Eli giggling like I haven't heard since the accident, and that's because of you. You're probably laughing about my cooking downfalls or the fact that I dyed everyone's white socks blue, but I would happily be laughed at for the rest of my life if it means you're here with us.

I have to go now as we finally get to go home. I love you.