It's not just grief. Not by now, not years later when she still doesn't let herself think about it too much. The surface points, sure - she can gloss over the majority of it and even talk about some of it with people, but she can't dig into it like she knows a therapist would have told her to do.

She can't. So she tucks her chin into him a bit more, closes her eyes, and says, "Some things you just know you'll die with."