NOTHING AT ALL → bts oneshot

Nothing at all

I woke up with a different feeling. That surprised me. I hadn't felt anything but sadness for a while.

But it was a feeling that scared me. A feeling that made me want to feel the pain all over again. Fresh and excruciating. It was a feeling that made me worry.

The feeling I had woken up with was a creeping numbness. Emptiness.

And that terrifies me.

As soon as I recognize the feeling, I want to bury myself under the covers, force the tears to return, to force the aching to come back just as powerful.

But I can't move.

That doesn't surprise me. I haven't been able to move for a while.

That did not scare me. I haven't even thought of moving for a while. Maybe that's why I can't.

But now I want to move.

I want to scream.

I want to cry.

I want to go back to where you let me go.

Where you met me.

Where you loved me.

Where you held me.

Where you left me.

I just don't want to go to where you actually are.

I don't want to go to where they buried you.

You told me that you wanted to fly away with the wind.

But they hadn't let you fly away with the wind.

So I don't go to see where they buried you. Because I know you aren't happy there.

And I don't think I can take any more unhappiness.

But wanting to go is not the same as actually going. And I don't think I'll be able to leave my room for a while.

••

Mom is worried about me. I know you'd hate that. You hated when I upset my mom. Since you didn't have one yourself.

You made me love her more. You made me love everyone more.

But I never loved anyone more than I loved you.

My dad doesn't talk to me. He just sits outside my room for a while whenever he gets home. I can hear him sighing as he slowly leans against my door. He knows I don't want to talk. He knows I can't talk. So he just sits and waits.

He'll be waiting for a while.

•••

Do you think it's possible to cry yourself dry? I think it is. Maybe that's why I feel so empty. Or maybe I'm just lying to myself again.

I've been doing that a lot.

I did it when they first told me about the car accident.

I told myself that it was stupid for you to have left in a car accident. I told myself that was too average, too common. I told myself you couldn't have died in such a simple way.

You were too special to die in such a way.

So I didn't cry when I first heard.

But then I was suddenly dressed in black, suddenly I was standing in the place that makes you unhappy. My mom was crying. Your dad just stood and watched with a gray look on his face.

I told myself you weren't in that dark brown box. Because you didn't want to disappear into the darkness. You wanted to fly to the sun. You told me. So I told myself you weren't there in that box. And I didn't cry then either.

It's stupid. But I didn't cry until after the strange, quiet gathering. After everyone had left. After I walked upstairs to my room in slow motion, still trying to understand what was happening.

I didn't cry until my phone was silent at nine. I didn't cry until I realized you weren't going to call me. I cried when our song didn't fill up my room. You were supposed to call me at nine, like always.

But you didn't.

Only then did I realize you weren't going to call ever again. That I was never going to hear you speak. That I was never to going to see you.

I had let out a strange sort of gasp at 9:01. And then I had collapsed in a fit of sobs.

My parents came in to comfort me.

But we both know no one would be able to make me feel better.

••••

The sobs come at nine every night. Fresh and just as loud as the first time. I can't help it.

You would have hated seeing me like this. You'd be in pain too. And thinking about you in pain only makes it worse.

It was strange. I always thought that if I lost someone I loved, I would feel like a piece of me was taken away. That's how it seemed for everyone else. But when your permanent absence hit me, I didn't feel empty. I felt so full of grief, I thought I would explode.

So when I woke up this morning, the emptiness hit me hard. I don't want emptiness. I don't want numbness. I don't want to feel nothing.

Because feeling nothing means that you won't be able to live on inside me. Because you were feeling. You were compassion. You were love.

So I have to feel. I have to take this pain.

For you, I'd rather feel all the pain in the world than nothing at all.

Nothing at all.

•••••