Mourning The Death Of Someone Who Is Still Alive

Alex Jones
Alex Jones

It’s been two hundred fifty days. It’s been two hundred fifty days since the first time I saw you, since my world was turned upside down, and since some of the best days of my life took place. Now, it’s been almost one hundred eighty days since I started mourning your death.

You’re still here, living in the same house almost an hour away. You are one hundred percent alive, but I’ve been mourning your death since September. I’m still mourning the person you used to be, the conversations we used to have, and the time we used to spend together. I’m mourning all of the advice you’ve given me, the shoulder to cry on that is no longer there, and I miss the feeling of being so, inexplicably, in love with you. But you’re no longer that person.

You’re no longer the guy who would text me all day and all night, or the guy who would always make sure I was happy, or trying my best to be okay. You’re no longer the guy who called me at one in the morning on a Tuesday night to tell me about the fight he got in with his mother, or the guy who hugs me tighter than anyone else. You’ve become the guy who no longer reaches out to me and doesn’t reply to my texts. You’ve become the guy who acts like everything is okay in person when we both know it’s not. You’ve become the guy who keeps me up at night for all the wrong reasons, and the guy who makes it impossible for me to realize that I deserve better.

I feel your absence the way you feel a ghost. You’re no longer here, and no longer a part of my life. I’m left holding onto the bittersweet memories that I can’t seem to let go of, while you continue living your life without any difference. I wonder if you feel my absence too. I wonder if you ever see something that makes you think of me, or if you hear a song and remember all the countless albums I showed you. I wonder if you ever miss what he had, or thought about what we could’ve been. I wonder if you think about the memories, like that time you wiped frosting on my nose while I was leaning my head against your shoulder, and you told me I was amazing and that my laugh always made your days better.

Every time I see you I’m hit with a wave of emotion. All the joy, love, anger and sadness that you’ve caused me well up inside, and the joy and love seem to come out on top. When I expect to see you and you don’t show up, that wave comes crashing down on my bones and forgets to pull the anger and sadness back out to sea with it. I feel empty without you, without my friend. The friend, who I just now realized, after taking a step back, isn’t the friend he used to be.

If that guy ever comes back, the one who promised me he would never leave, I’ll always be waiting, holding onto our memories. Whether I wanted it to happen or not, you took a piece of me with you when you left. I don’t think I’ll ever get that piece back.  Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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