Waking up sucks. First, the concept hits. A world without him in it. Then what that means. Reality. The fact that he’ll never smile at me again, or call me a bozo. Then memories, complete with the visual of him dead. Every stage is like a punch in the gut. Each one harder and more painful.
I feel like my body has forgotten how to breathe. Every breath I have to remember and force. And I just want the pain to stop. I want to magically stop the ache of it… The feeling of someone taking a gigantic ice cream scoop to the center of my chest.
And I can’t. I’m stuck with it.
It’s times like these that I wish I wasn’t as strong as I am. Losing my mind, being sedated, I don’t know, all of that would be so much easier.
I miss him.
Written 2/20/2014
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