(no subject)
There's a certain percentage of me that doesn't want to be sad, then there's this other part that wants to be, because it's better than nothing. But I miss him, and he's never coming back. I never got to tell him I loved him, I just ran out of the room crying. I couldn't say anything, much less goodbye. I never ever got to tell him, and now I never will. I don't know what to think. It doesn't seem like he's gone. Death doesn't seem real to me, it's so final, and I can't accept that he's gone. Everyone thinks I'm over it, but I am not. I can't be. I want to switch places with him. I want him to be back. I wasn't all grown up.