Josh (yes I know I've posted this everywhere)
I don't know.
I don't think I ever really knew though or I ignored it. Why do things feel (seem) better in the morning? There is nothing different in the morning the problems are still there. When does morning begin? Does it begin when you feel better? Do some people never have mornings? What are those people like? Will this ever be okay? No. Will it get better? I don't know, but I hope it does. I have no pictures left. I destroyed my memories. I don't know why. All the things that reminded me of him, they're gone. There is a disgusting chemical smell of burnt memories hanging around my room. It makes my eyes water. Times like these that I wish I believed in something. That he's happy somewhere. That it wasn't for nothing. That he can see how many people love him. I really want him to know that. I want him to know how many people he affected. I don't know. I can't think anymore. I say his name repeatedly in my mind and when I talk, it slips out. I want it to all be a sick joke. But seeing his name in the obituaries makes it seem so much more final like running isn't an option. His name is typed in ink in a section of the newspaper that's reserved only for people who have no pulse. It's too final.
Am I ok? no. Am I upset? yes. Am I angry? yes. Am I hateful? no. Am I hungry? no. Do I miss him? yes.
I don't understand. And I'll never understand. But I'll try to understand. There's nothing else I can do.
You were/are an amazing person. I will never forget you. Time hasn't stopped and it wasn't raining outside, but you will always be in my heart. I love you:]
I don't think I ever really knew though or I ignored it. Why do things feel (seem) better in the morning? There is nothing different in the morning the problems are still there. When does morning begin? Does it begin when you feel better? Do some people never have mornings? What are those people like? Will this ever be okay? No. Will it get better? I don't know, but I hope it does. I have no pictures left. I destroyed my memories. I don't know why. All the things that reminded me of him, they're gone. There is a disgusting chemical smell of burnt memories hanging around my room. It makes my eyes water. Times like these that I wish I believed in something. That he's happy somewhere. That it wasn't for nothing. That he can see how many people love him. I really want him to know that. I want him to know how many people he affected. I don't know. I can't think anymore. I say his name repeatedly in my mind and when I talk, it slips out. I want it to all be a sick joke. But seeing his name in the obituaries makes it seem so much more final like running isn't an option. His name is typed in ink in a section of the newspaper that's reserved only for people who have no pulse. It's too final.
Am I ok? no. Am I upset? yes. Am I angry? yes. Am I hateful? no. Am I hungry? no. Do I miss him? yes.
I don't understand. And I'll never understand. But I'll try to understand. There's nothing else I can do.
You were/are an amazing person. I will never forget you. Time hasn't stopped and it wasn't raining outside, but you will always be in my heart. I love you:]