Losing someone is not like how they say. You lose someone, and no one lets you find them.
The finality of death is paved out before you like this dungeon that you know you have to step into.
I remember it well. I lost everything. I became a shadow of myself, a person that I would not recognize. It was like someone stripped me of my skin.
What are you without your skin? What are you without your ability to feel?
I didn't come out of this stronger.
I didn't come out of this at all.
Most days I find happiness. Most days I am OK.
It is the other days.
The days when I remember what I had.
I had something substantial, just like you. We had family dinners and vacations and belly laughs. I ate crab cakes on the deck in the changing light of summer. I stuck my fingers into the wax of a citronella candle and caught lighting bugs in mason jars.
That time existed...it was real and yet...it feels like sand running through my fingers, I can't grasp it or put it back in place.
Every single thing is different. Wiped clean.
Like it never happened.
We are all stupid. We take everything for granted.
People die. Love the crap out of them every single day. Even when you hate them. Love them.