Remembering Sunday

She died on a Sunday, at 4:13 in the morning and I guess it wasn't pretty.
I spent days in bed, not eating, showering. Not believing that this was really happening. I hoped it was all just a dream.
I was proved wrong when her mom had stopped by to let us know the funeral would be that Wednesday, the next day.
Ha. Funny, right? No. It just made everything worse. People had a sick sense of humor.
She asked me to speak, to give a eulogy.
Honestly, I didn't want to. I didn't even want to go. I didn't want to see her lowered into the ground, or laying in her casket, all dolled up and healthy looking. But I said yes anyway because it's what she would've wanted.
So the next day I got out of bed. I showered, brushed my teeth, ate some Pop Tarts and put in a Metallica tee-shirt, some jeans and my Converse All Stars because I know that's what Wednes would've wanted me to wear.
We all piled into my mom's minivan and drove to the funeral home. I walked in and glanced around the room. It smelled like old people and death. Your typical funeral home.
I thought it was pretty ironic that “funeral” had “fun” in it. Funerals weren’t fun at all.
It was a pretty big turn out. There were people everywhere. People crying, talking, occasionally chuckling. Rejoicing in the life of Wednesday McAddams.
But what upset me the most was that there were people there who hadn't spoken to Wednesday in months. Hadn't checked up on her or bothered to hang out with her since she was diagnosed.
I noticed her parents standing by her casket, hugging everyone as they visited her. They saw me and walked over, enveloping me in hugs.
"You look good Jack. That's what she would've wanted everyone to wear," he chuckled.
I forced a smile and nodded.
“I miss her,” I sobbed.
"Don't be afraid, Jack. Death is apart of life," her mom whispered as I stared at the mahogany casket.
"Don't be afraid to say good bye son," Mr. McAddams whispered.
But that was the thing, I didn't want to say good bye.
But I trudged over to the casket anyway.
She looked so peaceful, laying there in her Avenged Sevenfold tee and ripped blue jeans, her hands folded onto her chest and a brown curly wig on her head.
Who says you need to look your best when you go to meet god?
Her eyes were closed, you could almost convince yourself she was asleep, but then Reality bitch slapped you across the face and you had to stop pretending.
I clenched my fists and stared at the floor, my tears falling staining the red carpet.
I pulled her iPod and ear buds out of my back pocket and slid them under her hands.
"Music is the best medicine, not laughter," I whispered. I leaned in a kissed her forehead.
"Bye Wednes. I love you." I walked away. I walked over to the tribute display they had set up. It was one of those large tri-fold cardboard display boards you used for things like science fairs and what not, but instead of scienc-ie things, it was covered in pictured of Wednesday. I was on it too. Seventeen birthday pictures, a few family photos, countless pet fish. The works.
It made me sadder.
The sermon started a while later. A punk looking dude named Alex preformed it. He lead us in prayer and then invited people up to speak. I was last.
"And now a final word from Wednesday's boyfriend, Jack."
I got up and trudged to the podium, standing behind it and adjusting the microphone.
"Uh. Hi. I uh- I'm not gonna stand here and tell you how great, pretty, and amazing Wednesday was, because I'm pretty sure all of us in this room knows that she was an amazing person. I'm just gonna tell you people that I loved her. With all my heart. You can tell me it was puppy love and whatever bullshit you can come up with, but it wasn't. It was real. I’ve never felt this much emotion for anyone except her and it kills me to know that she’s gone. I wish it was me instead," I finished and walked away.
Alex then closed the sermon with another prayer and we all were asked to join them at the cemetery for her burial.
Wednesday's parents had asked me to help carry her casket, so I did, tears pouring down my face as they lowered it into the ground and finally laid her to rest.
It hurt, but I was thankful that she wasn't in pain anymore. It was just me now.
After she was buried, her mom stopped me before I left and handed me a letter.
"We found a few of these in her dresser," she explained, handing me a white envelope with my name scrawled across the front.
I hugged Mrs. McAddams and got into my moms van. I opened the letter and began reading.
"Dear Jack,
I'm so sorry I left you this way. I'm sorry for the way I had been acting. I'm sorry I can't be there anymore.
I want to thank you. For everything. I can't thank you enough for being mine. For dealing with me and keeping me sane through all if the treatment.
I love you Jack. With all of my heart and I always will. You were my everything and I'm so sorry I left you. I just want to ask you one thing. Please move on. Don't dwell on me. Go find someone new, someone who can love you and make you happy like I couldn't.
I love you Jack."
And it was over. She was really gone.