Empty Words

:1:

Grief. My word. Their word. Your word. His world. His reality. My sorrow. 

Tomorrow. My next day of pain. Your next day of living. His next day of putting sorrow upon others, the pain he evaporated himself from. 

Love. My loss. Your reality. His reason.

Death. My regret. Your fear. His fate. Our colorblindness and sorrow to feel. 

He left knowing what he would do to people. He left knowing he would bestow his destroyed anger and sadness upon us all. But he didn't know it would hit me the hardest. I try to scream and relish my fear, but it's now a reality. I try to hold back my tears, I really do. But I lost him. Do you know what that feels like? Do you know what I feel?

I stop my tracks, lose my progress in my picturing of him. He didn't deserve this life... such a beautiful beam of light, and now it seems the world turned off his light. It turned off his bright switch. 

I could've stopped it. All the signs. No sleep, never clean, dirty nails, greasy hair, smelled bad. He never did his laundry anymore. He just didn't care. I tried so hard to be there for him, but I knew if I cared too much he would think I was only being nice to keep him alive. He was my friend, maybe not my best friend, but a damn good one. His eyes would look at me and I could feel a smile approach my lips. A rare sight to see. I miss it. I miss him. 

I wish I would've made more of what we had. Leaving that sentence at that, you can imagine what I mean. 

Now it seems all these words I type are fragmented, their meaning to what I mean is lost. All the italics, it means nothing. It's for expression, not measure. These letters are tired of dancing around, they're tired of being the life of the party. These words are empty. Meaning taken away, now they're draped in sadness. They're all just prisoners of my grief. 

But there's four words in particular that he took the meaning away from:

One, grief. Two, tomorrow. Three, love. Four, death.