(no subject)
She doesn't cry. She should, maybe. Feels like it, anyway. But she doesn't, not even a single tear.
It's a strange feeling. It's not anger, or even guilt, just a sense of...emptiness. Crushing, suffocating emptiness, a hollow resignation that goes beyond just being sad.
It's mourning, she realizes, as she forces herself to go about the minutiae of a shower, brushing her teeth, changing clothes. She's in mourning for a friendship with a person who's not gone, and the worst part is that she knows there will never be any closure, because they'll never be able to go back to the way it was before.
When there's no more minutiae to get through, she sits on her couch with her knees pulled tight against her chest and stares out at nothing.
She can't face the bar just yet.
She's afraid if she goes back she'll see Mel's eyes.
It's a strange feeling. It's not anger, or even guilt, just a sense of...emptiness. Crushing, suffocating emptiness, a hollow resignation that goes beyond just being sad.
It's mourning, she realizes, as she forces herself to go about the minutiae of a shower, brushing her teeth, changing clothes. She's in mourning for a friendship with a person who's not gone, and the worst part is that she knows there will never be any closure, because they'll never be able to go back to the way it was before.
When there's no more minutiae to get through, she sits on her couch with her knees pulled tight against her chest and stares out at nothing.
She can't face the bar just yet.
She's afraid if she goes back she'll see Mel's eyes.