Me after you
I didn’t know
that losing — grieving — accepting could be a long, painful journey.
I never thought I’d be on this path — capturing the right moments, crying, crumbling, folded between pages of books, right in front of a mirror.
I was trying to recognize this feeling. It was awful. I kept mumbling to myself not to cry, but I couldn’t. I kept punching the walls — my head hurt. It was so bad, I swear to God.
I barely knew who I was before. I lost myself. I let myself drown in the depths of the sea. And I can’t swim. I just… can’t.
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I lost you. You, the one I thought would be my last. I was building, imagining, a world with you. It felt like a dream. Until I didn’t realize —
maybe you got distracted because of that? (maybe.)
That time,
I lost.
I lost you.
I lost the way I saw myself.
My world was you.
And it was all about you.
A…n…d… you —
You forgot I exist, right?
For the past year, I kept thinking I couldn’t go on in this world. I stopped — for a while. My heart kept beating .I kept on breathing. But my mind couldn’t think. I died — inside.
I tried to keep on living through this. This pain — this shit — burdened me.
My body just couldn’t resist the weight of feeling. My soul slowly faded away. And now, I can’t even imagine what my life looks like after you.
