I have come to the conclusion that the pain does not get better with time; I think it actually gets worse. It's been two years, and the pain is still just as fresh as it was when I watched her walk away in Paris. The things that make me stop, that make me have to remember to breathe, that completely break me, have changed over the course of the past two years. Sometimes it's thinking too much about a book she recommended me, or that my coffee doesn't taste quite right when its not her making it, or remembering a joke she'd tell, and I'd laugh no mater what mood I was in. All of those things that used to make smile, they are almost enough to just break down crying.
I try to hide my pain as best I can, I think Garcia and Reid notice. And Hotch, sometimes, though he tries to give me a reassuring look that it will get better.
Everyone is still grieving in their own way, but for them I think it has gotten better. Garcia no longer cries when she passes Emily's picture. Reid is getting better sleep. Morgan isn't as angry, at least not with Emily. He is still angry with himself and with Doyle.
I just don't know how much longer I can take this. I hope she can come home soon.
A/N: I'm so sorry it took me this long to write this, life got in the way. I hope y'all enjoyed it. Hopefully I'll be able to post agin soon. Thanks