Last night I went to bed full of dread and worry about my driving lesson this morning. However, when I fell asleep I actually slept the whole way through the night until my alarm sounded rather than waking up every hour, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t have nightmares. 
I dreamt of Andrew. It was a random and kind of strange dream. There was some sort of gathering, all his family were there and some other people that I couldn’t see the faces of clearly to recognise. We had all been having tests to see if any of us could help cure Andrew of his illnesses…and my test came back as being positive to help him, which was just a simple injection of my blood into his (weird and unrealistic I know but it was just a dream it doesn’t have to make sense). In my dream I saved him. I saved him and he was living with me and we were expecting our first child together (we both have a child each in reality) and it was just basically showing snippets of our life together until I woke up and the dream ended.
I was sad the dream had ended, and I woke up feeling kinda teary but also like he was with me telling me I’ll be ok. Once I was dressed I went downstairs and put on my necklace that I have in memory of Andrew; I tend to wear this necklace when I feel that I need some strength as Andrew was the strongest person I ever met, and he always made everything better. 
Sounds silly but I don’t care. I knew he was with me today, I felt like I was being watched but not in a creepy way, in a reassuring way like when a child is saying “mummy watch me do this!” And it helped.
Since being home after my mum left, there’s been 2 programs I’ve sat and watched both with people/characters called Andrew. So to me it’s like he’s telling me he’s still here.
I know I sound mad but these are my beliefs and my comfort. 
The only thing that’s now upsetting me, is that I can not hear his voice anymore. In my dream I didn’t hear him speak. And if I think about him I can’t hear his voice anymore. It’s heartbreaking. It’s the one thing I thought I’d always be able to keep hold of as he had a really distinctive voice, but it’s gone. So even though I’ve had the comfort of feeling him here with me, it kills me that I can’t hear his voice anymore. I wish I had taken more photos and videos of him, that I could look at and listen to. But we never took photos, we were always too busy talking etc to take photos. I just want to hear his voice 😞 
I’m dreading the 29th of June. Andrew would of been 30, and it’s also the day he passed away. It’ll be one year this year. I wish I could go to my home town and just sit at his grave, even just for a moment. The last time I went was in September when I last visited my hometown. And I plan to visit him every time I go back. I never got the ‘closure’ I needed when Andrew died, as his funeral was the day of my daughters 2nd birthday so I couldn’t go, I couldn’t say goodbye. I haven’t been able to truly let everything out. I need to scream and shout at the sky to get my anger out, kick shadows on the street and hit walls to release my heartache…but I haven’t been able to do that as 1.theres no where here I can do that and 2.i can’t just go off and leave my daughter obviously. I’m hoping that the artificial flower and message I left for him are still there on his grave, just so he has me there with him. Even though I’m kind of thankful he was buried and has a grave that I can visit, I also find it so hard to know that he’s there alone in the dark and cold. Just makes me sad I guess. Though I also don’t like the idea of cremation. I just want those I love to live forever obviously! 
Sorry this has been a bit of a random downer of a post really, but as I’ve said before I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this stuff, I’ve got no one I can just cry with. So the only place I can sort of talk is on my blog really. When really the only person I want is Andrew; I want him to hug me and tell me to man up after kissing me on the forehead and telling me I’ll be ok, then doing something silly like tickling me or just making me laugh in any way he could. 
I fucking miss him, and it hurts.
🔷🔷🔷
I think now I’m going to go to bed and try and distract myself from crying again. Andrew wouldn’t want me to be crying. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’ve got to snap out of this. Writing has eased the pressure a bit, but I think that being tired isn’t helping it’s probably making me even more ‘sensitive’ I guess.
I’ll be ok tomorrow.
🔹immeamy, you’re you, and that’s the best way to be🔹
immeamy 