It’s been 3 lifetimes, and yet only just over a month since I died. I’m a walking corpse, a shell of the person I once was.
I wish I really were dead. Then I wouldn’t have this hole inside, a gaping wound that’s swallowed everything. There are no words to describe how deeply I hurt, this soul-crushing pain I face every waking moment.
I hoped that after getting to today, I could start to breathe again. That the permanence of it all would sink in, and I could put you behind me and move on.
But my heart won’t get the message that you’re never coming back.
There are mementos everywhere, memories of the love and laughter we shared, the tears we carried each other through. Even last night, I couldn’t help wishing I could have shared that experience with you, instead of being across town and a million light years from each other.
But it will never be. I know that. There’s not a single question about it.
If only my heart could understand.