I feel like I'm looking for anything as a distraction now. I don't want to think about it. I'd rather be happy and think you're alive, thank you very much.
I wound up in your hometown today. Dragged, kicking and screaming the whole way. I don't want to see the places that we've been around together. Most importantly, I don't want to see the funeral home.
I don't think I can face it. I can feel my heart drop when I'm around it. The scorching hot summer temperatures seem to drop below negative thirty degrees. I hate it there.
I was at that one restaurant. The one we liked. I couldn't sit at your table. It hurts to know you aren't going to sit there with any of us again.
I hate that you left. But I still can't hate you. I won't. I will never let myself hate you or be mad at you. I can't.
I really don't want to be around that funeral home anymore. I can tell it's going to be a rough night.
I have to squeeze my eyes shut around it, or I have to look the other way. I can't do it. I'm trying, but I can't.
You know, there are some days that I wake up feeling so drained because I had a breakdown that night. I don't know how to not anymore.
I feel like I'm living the life of someone else around other people. It's kind of like Spiderman. Good lord, you would be so proud of that analogy. You know how he has two different identities? Like how he is Peter Parker in front of some people, but Spiderman in front of the world. I feel like happy me in front of everyone, but when no one sees me, I'm a completely different version of myself.
I hate to say that, but it's true. I put on fronts, so nobody gets to see the worst of it.
I wish I could face places.
I wish I could say I'm fine and mean it.
I wish I could turn back time. To a time when I could still talk to you and you physically be there.
I'm tired of talking to shadows and pretending they're you.
