𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒, w.soot

FIVE.

FIVE ;
emotions.

E,

Did you know that I haven't been able to say your name the entire time i've been forced to grieve you? The last time I said it was when I called my mom and was barely able to tell her what happened. That was three months ago, E. Three painfully long months that I haven't been able to say your name without bursting into tears. It feels like some sick and twisted joke that I can't say your goddamn name but every. single. time. that I close my eyes i'm haunted by you. Every single time I go to sleep I think of you and how badly I wish I could just tell you I love you one last time.

My mother keeps insisting that I make a scrapbook filled with pictures and memories of you. She has good intentions, I know that. But she doesn't understand that I haven't been able to look at you, either. She doesn't understand that i'm stuck in a horrible loop of missing you more than anything but being unable to look at anything that reminds me of you. Everything hurts and at the same time I can't feel anything at all.

Far too many emotions that I can't be bothered to try and deal with. I don't know if it's because I don't care or if it's because I wouldn't know what to do if I tried. It's times like these where I miss the numbness. It was terrible and so fucking scary but at this point I don't think I would care.

That seems to be a common theme for me lately. Not caring about anything at all, that is. In its own way, that's almost scarier than being numb.

I just wish everybody would leave me alone for five fucking seconds. They keep trying to force "helpful" reassurances down my goddamn throat, but I don't think that anybody fucking realizes that no matter how many times they tell me that i'll see you again, doesn't fucking change the fact that you're not here right now and i'm in more pain than I know how to deal with.

It gets easier with time, they say. Life will go on, they keep telling me. And sure, maybe life will go on. But I know that it'll never be the same, just like I know that mourning you will never be easy. More bearable, maybe. But never easy.

I wish you were here so bad, E. I don't know how to deal with these fucking emotions and I don't know how the hell writing these goddamn letters is supposed to help.

I love you.

Yours,
Will