Because nobody tells you that losing the person you love most in the universe feels like dying. They tell you it hurts and they tell you it’s lonely but they don’t tell you that it feels like something crawled it’s way into your chest and tore your heart out, that inside your head you’re standing before a gaping blackness screaming ‘give him back to me’ until you choke and beg every god in the sky to drown you in your own breath.
They don’t tell you that when you open your doors and look up at the stars, you can’t see them anymore, that sometimes you’ll miss them until your body aches, miss him until your heart breaks. They don’t tell you that you’ll see him in everything, everywhere, and that his purple jacket on the chair will make you want to run until your head spins and your blood stops because if you keep moving then maybe God maybe you won’t see his face as clearly as the day you first met him because the image won’t have time to settle.
Because you can’t hide forever. You cannot hide forever …. They don’t tell you it makes you want to die. Quietly. Just … just quietly. Slip into the night with no noise or audience. They don’t tell you it kills you. And they don’t tell you there will always be a wall, an unbreachable, unending wall, that looms at the edge of all your horizons and will wake you up in a cold sweat night after night after night. They don’t tell you a lot of things, really. And you know, I’m not sure they ought to.
(I still don’t think pain is the most terrible thing in this terrible world)
- wordquotes
