164 Days Later. 


One sixty four!

I can’t process how fast these dreadful hours of days are going. Sometimes, I lose all sense of time and all I see is snippets of you walking this hallway in front of my bedroom, memories of you lying asleep on your bed at night as I sneak into Mom and Dad’s room, trying not to wake you, and echoes of you chewing your food for too long I lose count of the times you separate and unite your teeth. I think of your belongings. Where are they?! Whom do they belong to now?

I can’t believe how cruel this life is. I mean I do believe in fate, but why can’t it happen without digging holes into our hearts and throwing bombs in our brains? I just cannot bear the thought of you being gone. What even does that mean?! ‘Gone’! 

I often feel guilty for wishing you were still here. A voice in my head yells at me for being so selfish. For thinking about my pain rather than your relief. It says you’re better off, life isn’t too pleasant anyway. But then another voice screams ‘what about me!’, and I think that’s the consuming sorrow crying. How am I supposed to cope? What am I supposed to think? Which voice is me and which isn’t?? 

I’m going crazy. I’m desperate for some kind of reassurance. I’m attempting to give up my only coping mechanism and I don’t know what to do with myself and all these emotions now. Tell me. Give me a way out. Show me how to live without a piece of me. Show me how to be happy without you here with me. Show me how to love and trust again. I don’t feel any of that is possible. I’m drowning in this ocean of sorrow and regret and fear and trustlessness, fighting for a way out while simultaneously wishing I run out of breath.

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