I could tell myself that he is dead. I keep telling myself that, but there is no use. How can I think of him so much? Why can’t I just forget you? I should be able to live, to love, to laugh and cry as a normal person that I am, but I can not. I love something that does not exist; I love something that can not exist. You’re my dream, my heat, my sweat; you’re everything, but nothing.
I have to remember to live, to love, to laugh and cry, but when I do I think of you. I’ll be alone forever, but I will be with you, holding the void space that should be you, loving the air that should be you, loving it and hating it because it is not. I want to die, to forget, to cry, to disappear, to be no more. It’s torture knowing that I can never have, knowing that no matter how hard and how far away I’ll look I’ll find only void, air, you.
I have to remember to live, to love, to laugh and cry, but when I do I think of you. I’ll be alone forever, but I will be with you, holding the void space that should be you, loving the air that should be you, loving it and hating it because it is not. I want to die, to forget, to cry, to disappear, to be no more. It’s torture knowing that I can never have, knowing that no matter how hard and how far away I’ll look I’ll find only void, air, you.
Nothing.
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