January 17th
I lost everything
•••••
I lost everything.
And I'm being serious when I say everything.
My brothers.
My sister.
My parents.
My cousin.
My friends.
I lost everything, and everyone.
Everyone who truly loved me was gone.
Everyone I truly loved was gone.
And there was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I wanted to.
It was all over.
The laughter.
The fun.
The memories.
The joy.
The happiness.
Even the not so good things.
The arguments, petty or serious.
The shouting.
The annoying each other.
Good or bad, all that was gone.
They weren't ever coming back.
I begged and begged for them to come back.
I begged.
I hoped.
I prayed.
But nothing changed, of course it didn't.
They were gone,
Dead,
And I'd never see them again.
They were ripped away from me.
And our relationship at the end wasn't so great.
I wish I could apologise.
To all of them.
Each and every one of them.
Apologise for the way I acted.
For the way I treated them.
For my lack of understanding.
For all of it.
But it was too late for that now.
Too late for a desperate apology.
No matter how much I wanted it to change, it always stayed the same.
The house was empty.
The bedrooms were empty, no one sleeping in those beds.
The kitchen was empty, no one cooking at the stove.
The living room was empty, no one sitting on those sofas.
The garden was empty, no one planting flowers or vegetables.
My heart was empty.
I felt nothing anymore.
And the worse thing was - everyone expected me to act like I was fine.
And I wasn't.
How could anyone be fine after something like that?
But they expect you to move on.
To get over it.
To live your life like nothing happened.
And I guess they're partly right.
I wouldn't survive if I couldn't pull myself together.
But maybe part of me didn't want to survive?
I mean, what was left for me?
After all, I lost everything on that day...
Myself included.
•••••••
