I wish I could. Every minute of every day.  I resent the world continuing, and I really really resent that the world thinks I need to continue with it.  I watch the cars, I watch the people...annoyed mom's in grocery stores, hyper-disciplinarian dads doing what hyper-disciplinarian dads do...and I just want to scream.  I want to be the chick in the movie who gets overwhelmed and everything around her freezes.  I'm not ready to move on.  I'm not ready to let go.  I still spend the larger part of my waking hours curled up on my couch with a box of tissues, clinging to the stuffed dog that was given to me at the hospital when she died.  I hate that no one understands, and I hate that everything is just supposed to keep moving.  I am dreading the day when I have to go back to work.  I cringe when I take Khaily to school.  I just want everything to FREEZE until I am ready to move with it.  It's like Im trying to run up a hill that is directly vertical.  One step, slide, two steps, slide, three steps...oh damn i broke my ankle.  I feel guilty when I have a decent couple hours, I feel guilty when I leave the cemetary, I feel guilty  when I don't go to the cemetary.  The guilt of the occasional smile is almost unbearable, I feel like a fraud when I play with Khaily because I'm smiling and laughing and answering her questions calm, cool, and collected but on the inside I can feel the fibers of my heart snapping one by one.  I miss my little girl.  I look around the house, and I can see her spinning in the living room, I can hear her footsteps running through the kitchen, I can feel her climbing up in my lap.  Everything hurts.  And I want it to stop.  I just wnat everything to stop.  Just for a minute.  Just long enough to breathe for like a second. But it won't. And

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