“When you lose someone you love it’s like losing a part of yourself you didn’t think could be that big. There’s a void that you want to fill but you’re just not sure how; it feels like there should be a way, like you shouldn’t be hurting this bad for this long because you know that’s not what they wanted, but there just isn’t. You try to fill it with good times and laughter and happy memories like a neat lil bouquet of joy, but then it starts aching for no other reason than it just can. It eats at you when you’re at your happiest as if it were some soul-feasting bacteria, rotting you until you’re a momentary husk without light in your eyes and you gotta tell your buddies that you’re just not feeling it for the umpteenth time. Then the next morning you wake up and briefly wonder why you were ever sad at all, then it hits you all over again.

It’s… whatever. It’s just a bunch of gobbledygook you piss away the time with wondering why you’re not laughing like he said to if they ended up getting him. Sometimes I feel like I’m mourning the fact he’s dead more than how he was just so alive. 

You can stop looking at me now.”