Dear Benj It's now been 6 weeks although, sometimes it feels like 5 minutes and at other times it's like it's been years since I last saw you. Since I hugged you and kissed you and told you I loved you. I'm writing this like you can read it. Of course you can't. You're dead. You know nothing of the last 6 weeks (and those all important 4 days beforehand when you were only 'alive' because of a stupid machine). People tell me that you've gone to a better place that you're at peace and no longer afraid. They mean well but they don't know that. The reality is you are lying in a cold dark grave. Alone. Again. I'm so sorry for the choices I made. I chose to leave you for a month in the summer. A whole month. How could I? I chose to have you taken into hospital when I returned even though you clearly didn't want to go. I chose to believe you when you asked for money for takeaways I truly did. Thank you for telling me that the money I gave you wasn't used to kill yourself even though we both know it was. I chose to have that stupid machine turned off when they told me the extent of the damage. What a choice. I chose to have you buried when I know that you would've preferred to be burnt. I chose the music for your funeral even though I know you'd have preferred Slayer. The choices were made for ME. How noble of me Benj. I bet you're so proud. I'm so so sorry I was a rubbish mum. I actually did try so hard to get it right but as usual I failed. I should've addressed this letter to myself as I'm so full of self-pity and you can't read it anyway. You will never know how utterly broken I am..see it's still all about me..please please forgive me. Please come to me in my dreams. Nitra e Bekarov Shalom xxxx