I had managed to carve out a nice life. I was happy, we were happy. Sitting on the couch smoking a bowl, laughing at silly things on T.V.
I lost him, my best friend, my brother, my partner in crime, my husband boo. It seemed like we beat the odds, you know? Finding each other. The job I had was great. We took long weekend trips to random places just because it sounded fun.
Being anywhere with him was fun.
The thought of you hurts because you are not here, nor would I want you to be… what I am now is not what I was.
Life moves along slowly and painfully. My head filled with the reality of it all, the daunting task of trying to continue in a world where I feel no emotion. I feel numb. I feel like a ghost, watching the world around me continue as it has for centuries.
No it’s not just a broken heart, it’s a broken soul. A soul that no longer cares to continue. I sit here not wanting to create new memories …. I sit here content with the life I’ve had. I’m 27 and I’m ready for it to be over.
I enjoy sleep because it silences the pain of reality, a reality that isn’t all that “bad.”Â Then there’s the guilt for hating life when so many are fighting for it. Why? What’s the point… There is no point. You “exist” then you don’t “exist” that is all.
What a cruel sadistic joke.