It's been a week since Pacey...I still can't think too much about it. It still hurts so bad. I've been living in this numbed state for the last seven days. I didn't go to his funeral. I know I should have. I loved--I still love him more than any of the people who went combined. I just...couldn't. I wasn't ready to admit he's gone.

He's not gone though, not really. If he were...I'd know it, right? He has such a big part of my heart--I'd be able to feel it when he's gone. And I don't...I can still feel him with me. Inside me.

Everyone's been telling me that he'll never be gone, that he lives inside those of us who knew him. I just want to slap those people. It's not the same...having him in my heart isn't enough. I need him! I need to touch his skin, I need to see the michevious twinkle in his eyes, I need to hear the warm rumble of his voice in the morning.

I feel sick to my stomach every day, I look into my eyes in the mirror every morning and they're empty. I keep praying that one time, I'll look and they'll be full of life and this whole ordeal was just some horrible drawn out nightmare. That he'll come through my front door with a poppyseed muffin for him and a blueberry one for me and we'll go off to school together. Him teasing me all the way about the silliness of my dream.

So far...it hasn't happened.

This is going to be my first day back. It's been difficult enough to face Bessie, Bodie and my friends. They all loved and miss him too. They ache because of his absence just like I do. Only, it's not the same...they don't need him like I do. They don't struggle to get out of bed in the morning because he's not going to be there to make their day worth while.

So, that's where I still am. Lying in my bed, wearing a gray CHS sweatshirt he left here a while back. I haven't taken it off for more than a shower in days. It still smells like him. I hold it up to my nose and breathe in. The musky, masculine scent of him brings tears to my eyes. The smell is fading slowly...each day growing more faint as I try harder and harder to hold on to it.

Bessie knocks on my door and peeks her head inside, "Joey, you should probably get up." Her voice is soft and compassionate. I almost wish she'd just yell at me.

With a sigh, I slowly rise from the bed and get dressed. I took a shower last night, and I'm glad I did...I don't think I could pull myself out from under the hot stream of water this morning. I turned it on as hot as I can stand it and try to imagine what it must have felt like for him. I always end up curled at the bottom of the shower stall, clutching my knees to my chest, trying not to pass out from the searing pain of losing him.

I change my clothes mechanically and pull Pacey's sweatshirt back on over the tank top I'm wearing. Silently, I join Bessie, Bodie and Alexander, ignoring the concerned looks Bessie and Bodie exchange. Maybe I'm not taking his death so well...but is that wrong? What are they expecting? Smiles and laughter?

"Morning, Jo." Bodie says warmly.

"Hmm," I mumble. I kiss Alexander on the top of the head. He's the only person I can really stand being around right now. Everyone else looks at me with pity in their eyes...Alexander just stares at me with love. Even he can tell I'm not happy...but he understands in a way that no one else does that there's nothing anyone can do for me. He doesn't try to play with me or talk to me with his extremely limited vocabulary. He just lets me be. The first day...he walked all the way to my room and climbed into bed with me. All two and a half feet of him snuggled up to me in my huge bed and listened to me cry. It was the best thing anyone could have done.

"Joey, You want some breakfast?" Bessie asks, standing at the stove, holding an egg in her hand. I shake my head and poor myself a glass of orange juice. "You need to eat, Joey." She reprimands me softly.

"I'll eat at school." My voice is emotionless, leaving no room for argument. When did he become the life in me? The emotion? My very reason for living? Why didn't I stop it? I should have known he'd find a way to leave me to. Everyone I love leaves...why did I trust him? Why didn't I know he'd be no different?

And why can't I hate him for it? I want to hate him...I want to be angry and scream and yell. Feel something, anything, other than this horrible wretching ache.

I stare helpless around the kitchen, lost in my own agony and Alexander holds my hand, watching me sadly. Pacey helped build this kitchen. His sweat and tears are mixed in with the paint coating the walls. I bite my lip as a memory of him flicking paint at me in this very room flashes over my eyes.

God, it hurts.

I need to get out. I put my glass in the sink and grab my backpack. I kiss Alexander on the head as I leave through the door. I inhale the fresh air gratefully. I'm so glad to be out of the house. I start walking down the driveway, one foot in front of the other. The driveway where he taught me how to drive.

There are memories of him everywhere. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears I want to shed from falling. Everywhere I go, I'm faced with a memory. This town is saturated with them.

He's everywhere.

No one told me it'd hurt this much. That I'd kick and scream into my pillow, soaking it through with tears, suffocating on my sobs and making myself violently sick with my sorrow. No one told me it'd hurt to breathe, knowing he wasn't anymore.

No one fucking told me I'd want to hate him for leaving me.

I kick angrily at a rock that had the misfortune of being in my way. I hate being angry with him...especially when I would sell my soul just to be able yell at him just one last time. It just makes the anger build, knowing I can't ever take it out on him.

The anger, despite the fact that it's a forced emotion I use to cover my sadness, is better than the sorrow. The anger I can deal with...it leaves me exhausted and drained, and then at the end of the day I fall into a dead sleep.

The sorrow...it leaves me shattered and all the pieces of my heart are scattered into the wind with my tears. Leaving me feeling completey and utterly empty inside.

My anger and sorrow fight within me as I walk along the road to the school. One always wins out in the end. The same one, over and over again. I've never been able to stay mad at him for long.

I keep my eyes trained on the sidewalk as my feet plod every closer to the school. I've kept myself from thinking about this day. I don't want to face these people, be on the receiving end of their apologies, like they had something to do with his death.

Bessie keeps telling me it'll get easier with time, and I just don't see how that can possibly happen. Every day I wake up without him here is another blow to my broken heart. It doesn't get easier...it gets worse. Facing my teachers, classmates and friends today is going to be one of the hardest. I don't want or need their pity...I need him.

I'm here, without quite knowing how I got here so fast. The twenty minute walk has passed by in a blur. I pause by the blue and gold Capeside High sign, my eyes drift to the third elm tree away from the main doors of their own accord. It's where we met, every morning, rain or shine.

My knees buckle beneath me, I swear I see his tall form waiting for me in the shadow of one of the branches. I blink and he's gone...leaving me with nothing but the blood pounding harshly through my empty heart.

"Be strong, Jo."

I hear his voice echo in my ear and I'm comforted. I straighten my back and wipe my eyes. I can do this...I will do this. It's just one day...I can get through one day without him and I'll face the rest as they come.

For him.