Thoughts on a Thursday Night
The emptiness is deafening, almost unbearable. Nothing can fill the hole you’ve left. There may be a flood inside of me in several instances, but I can still feel the void where you used to be. I never got to mourn you properly, I never got to cry for you properly. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have cried for you, maybe I should have let every molecule of you be wiped away along with my tears. Maybe that way I could have drowned my suffering. But having to see you every day and not fall apart was a task that took all my strength, all my focus. Ironically, what I couldn’t see was that maybe if I had fallen apart and let you go then I wouldn’t have to let you go now in silence. Because I can’t cry now. Not when everyone thinks I’ve moved on; not when I, too, have just convinced myself that I’ve moved on. Even if just for a few minutes. (Just until another random memory of us makes its way into my mind. Just until the next Facebook reminder of something that happened a lifet...