We stopped at a hotel late that night, after driving for hours. We were all exhausted, so we signed in, went to our room, and fell asleep for a few hours.
Except me. I got maybe five minutes of sleep. Then, my dreams made it impossible for me to rest anymore. I wandered our room for the rest of the time until the girls woke up, sometimes listening to my mp3 player and sometimes just walking around.
When the girls were all up, we decided to go to the breakfast buffet downstairs in the lobby, discussing whatever. It felt so surreal. How could they sit there, eating breakfast, chatting casually, when we'd lost a friend? I suppose the shock had probably worn off for them, and now they just had that dull pain left.
For me, it was different. Yes, the shock had worn off - in fact, quite quickly - but the pain left afterwards was greater, as well as the anger.
And then there was the helplessness. The forlorn, despairing part of me that had finally surrendered to the world. I had lost too much; whatever would happen, would happen, and I just had to get used to it.
That still didn't make me feel any better. I couldn't stand this any longer.