Well, I lost you. You were right there with me, I could see you, feel you. But then you were gone again. Just like all those other times I've woken up, could have sworn you were right there just a moment ago but you've gone, disappeared off round some corner. Gone someplace I can't reach, can't get to. Always gone. Just an illusion.
But this time, it was so real. I could swear - swear you talked to me. Chewed me out, some. Just like you used to.
Saved my ass, again.
Made me feel.
I never wanted to feel.
'Cause in my line of work, feeling gets you killed. So you block it off, shut it down. It's what I did with Jessica. What I tried to do with you. Shut it out, shut it down. Don't grieve.
I don't think any amount of therapy will get me through this. See, grieving has an end. Someday, it'll wear itself out. Stop being grief and just turn into sadness. If that's what's supposed to happen, I don't want it. Because that would be the last, the very worst way of losing you. Because even this aching loss is better than nothing.
I missed. I never realized. It took nearly getting killed to make me understand that you were more than just a comrade. And then... and then it was suddenly too late. So if the only way to be close to you is to hurt, well I'm up for that. I know all about pain. I can dish it out, and I can take it.
Except you don't seem to want that. Dammit, Joss, wherever you are - can you help me? Maybe I'll be joining you soon. But maybe not. Maybe there's still some hope. Trying to imagine a life without you, a life without pain - it's hard. But if you want me to keep going, to crawl and dig and fight my way out of this, well I'll try. For you, I'll try. And knowing you're with me to the end, knowing you'll hold my hand when I'm dying, that'll make my end easier.
Just don't let me forget you.
Please.