For anyone who knows me, finding the right wording has always been extremely hard for me. After 9 long, dreadful months, I have found the way to cope with what happened to me on January 8^th.

I wish I would have known on that perfect Thursday night, what I would have woken up to the next day. Maybe I would have stayed with you all night, maybe I could have told you everything I have ever needed or wanted to say, but never got the chance to. But, I didn't. I mean, we were warned from the doctors that you weren't going to leave the hospital, but that wasn't anything that we haven't heard before. The past seven years were filled with "this is his last year to live" or "he only has a couple more months left to live", so we never really thought it would have happened, especially not like the way it did.

Watching you take your last breaths wasn't the hardest part of losing you. No, the hardest part of losing you was leaving the hospital on Friday, and having the guilt and overall sadness that sat in. Going home, to pick out the details for your obituary, your service, and your funeral. I remember visiting your grave every single Sunday for the first couple months, I was the first one to see your headstone. I remember bringing you flowers, and Wendy's Chili and sitting at your grave for hours, just talking and constantly apologizing. I remember crying, blaming myself, coming up with the what if's, and feeling like something could have changed, maybe if we stayed you'd be alive, maybe if the nurses saved you, all of these situations would pour through my head until I became completely distraught. The countless nights that I laid in bed, too terrified to go to bed because the scenes of the previous days poured into my mind, they were pretty terrible. Another thing was constantly battling with myself to try to at least act happy, that way no one worried about me, even though on the inside, I was completely crush. Overall, losing you was one of the worst things I could ever see happening in my life. Especially right before my 18^th birthday, right before prom, graduation, and the beginning of college.

The incredible stinging in my chest waking up everyday and not being able to see you, you not being able to see me in the prom dress you bought me, and seeing everyone's faces at graduation, that is everyone except for you are all the times I wish I could have hid away from the world. But, against my heart pleading to give up, I conquered all of these great milestones with amazing support. I decided to get a necklace made, so you'd be there anyways.

Losing you pretty much put my senior year on hold. I didn’t take senior pictures, I missed school, a lot of it, and I never sat down and considered college, scholarships, or anything. But somehow, within weeks, I narrowed it down to 7 schools, then to 5, then 3, then 1. Many people still don’t understand why or how I could have walked away from soccer scholarships the way I did. Some think I chose this path just because it was what you wanted. But, they're all wrong. Yes, the entire event of losing you made me so much stronger than what I was already, it made me think of my future, and what I wanted. I didn’t want debt after I finish school, but I didn’t want to seem like I gave up everything for nothing. This was an extremely hard decision for me but in the end, I ended up choosing Community College. I don’t regret it at all. I am now on the quickest path to becoming a RN. After I finish school, I plan to dedicate my life to giving back to the other veterans, so maybe I have the chance to help some little girls hero. Even though I lost you, and I lost a bit of myself with you, losing you helped me decide what was best for me. In the end, you left an extremely large hole in my heart, but, losing you was what was best for me and for that I thank you, even though you fought a fight I could never ask you to fight and I know now that you were tired of fighting. I understand it, I really do. I know you could only take so much. What I don’t understand, nor do I every really think I am going to understand, is death. I can’t wrap my head around the concept that you’re gone, and yeah, I’m going to see you again, eventually, but that’s a really long time. I also don’t understand why people started caring once it was too late, or the ones that were there once it happened, and said “I’m always going to be here for you.” Or “I understand” no matter how many times I heard that, which was well over a couple dozen times, I wanted to scream out “No, you don’t understand. You don’t understand what it’s like. To be there the day before, and to hear the words “This is the best I’ve felt in years.” You don’t know what it’s like to watch every memory from the past ten years of your life flash before your eyes as you stare at his chest, watching his heart beat die. You don’t understand what is like to watch your hero waste away to nothing and have to act like you’re okay enough to carry one. You don’t understand that it would be what he wanted out of me. “

So, the big question here is, am I okay? I liked to think so. Besides the occasional breakdown, the occasional self-blame, and occasional what-if, I think I’m handling life pretty great. I can’t sit here and say I’m fine or I’m perfect or It doesn’t hurt, because the pain follows every day, you just learn how to mask it better.

Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday.
-John Wayne

In Memory of my favorite cowboy ~ George Washington White Jr. Nov. 25^th, 1944- Jan. 08, 2016

With Love, Your Girl