2/21/14

Did you know that once one of dad's friends got shot in the chest 4 times, and he survived? All it took for you was one shot.

I guess we have lost so much people, I've become immune of the pain it brings. This has hit me like a ton of bricks. I never once thought in my God-damn-mind that you would leave me, leave us. In such a petty way too. You WERE an Angel of the Lord.

I bet you're looking down at me right now and laughing, I swear man, this isn't a diary. Sam told me it would be a good idea to write down my feelings on here. I sound like a 15 year old girl don't I?

It would've been easier just to drown myself in alcohol, but I'm doing this for Sam's sake too, we're on a thin thread Cas.

I'm not sure how to start this off, maybe by telling you what has happened so far, but you already know. Sam told me it's a good idea to write it all down, to accept this. But I don't want to accept this! I can't even think about it, without crying like a bitch. You have been gone for a week. A whole week. We didn't even burn your corpse yet, (I know what you're thinking, don't worry we buried you in the ground). I didn't let Sammy. I told him some way I would bring you back. I was thinking of when we find your grace, that would bring you back? I know we spent the last 11 months looks for it, but maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to find it. I know you told me it wouldn't work, but it's worth a shot.

It has been seven days, but everything seems the same, but it isn't. Nothing is the same, you're gone. I don't get to wake up with you wrapped in my arms. I don't get to see you smile and your beautiful blue eyes. I don't get to feel those sparks go through me whenever you kiss me. It's all gone.

It have been looking for you for four days. I'm sorry I couldn't have done it earlier. I couldn't bring myself to it. I have tried every son-of-a-bitch, and no answers. No demon, no former angel, no creature has any idea. Nothing can get in contact with heaven. I haven't slept in three days Cas. Sam has been bitching to me about it. But I just can't, I'm scared every time I close my eyes, I would see you die again.

But now I am here, in some crappy motel room, chugging down Jack Daniels, and you're on my mind. My cheeks are wet and everything is getting foggy. I guess this is where I stop writing.

Forever your bitch,

Dean