everyone keeps asking how i’m doing, as if this is merely a band-aid fix problem. that i can grieve and break down in bed and scream into the towel that dries my cries and hurts my swollen, puffy eyes.
no. i’m not fine. i’m the furthest thing from it. i am numb and empty and apathetic and every now and then i find comfort in crying because that’s better than not feeling anything at all.
i am not accepting this truth. i am not coming to terms with this crushing reality. i am floating, grasping at any existence you left for me to feel complete with. my heart aches. each deep breath floods me with memories of you. you exist in every aspect, hidden corner, and motion of my day. i am waiting for your name to appear on my phone, defying what i know exists as truth.
i’m not hanging in there. i’m barely breathing. i’m going through the motions. i’m crying in hotel showers and classrooms and behind closed doors while others listen and don’t know what to say. i’m reading notes to distract myself from thoughts of you. i’m crying in airports and lighting cigarettes and drinking for the distraction.
i am freefalling through every level of this dark and lonely place as life continues on. i am ignoring calls and canceling plans. i am looking through photos, rereading old texts, and wondering in what world you deserved this.
i am blaming and overthinking, wondering what i could have done to prevent this. i am restless, living this nightmare, only to wake up in the same place. i am not getting better. i am not seeing a way through. i am breaking for you.
i am tumbling out of control at an accelerating pace, only catching myself to address all the questions of how i’m doing. i am coming up for air to say i am not okay.