Four years ago today, my life ended. I’ve gone through the motions of living for four years- but I’ve been dead inside. The day you died was the day I died too.
It’s taken four years to even allow myself to look at you since I saw your body laid out under glass. Something not quite you in that white shroud. Four years of terrible self destruction disguised as surviving. And finally, finally, I’m done pretending anything will ever be different, that i will be anything other than broken. I will never let you go, I will never stop talking about you, I will never forget you and I will never forgive you or creation for leaving this earth.
I’ve finally accepted that this will never change – and this is my freedom. Because nothing matters, not really. Sure i get triggered by people leaving me, but it’s not them. It’s the leaving. It’s you. It’s your exit all over again. Everyone else is just a placeholder. Everyone else who leaves now is nothing. Everyone else is a body i won’t allow myself to feel anything for, not really. I can let everyone and everything go; i can risk everything, lose everything, and not care, because i know it’s all fleeting and temporary. The worst has already happened. And so I’m free.
Britt at Large 