A Prose With No Direction

-t-e-x-t-

I know what loss means.

I know what loss is.

I know what loss feels. 

I know that losing something you've already lost still hurts all the same.

Today I got a text.

A text I never thought I'd ever get again.

It was from a past relationship of mine that I ended long ago.

Her grandpa, my friend, has passed.

My friend sent me the news through a text.

I sat there in silence.

Surprised.

Shocked.

Angry.

Sad.

Confused.

Lonely.

Helpless.

Though that relationship ended long ago, I feel like a disgusting friend.

I can't go to her.

I can't comfort her.

I can't cry with her.

I can't fucking be with her.

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They call this the "trying time."

I'll name it the "crying time."

There's too much suffering.

There's too much sorrow.

There's too much loneliness.

There's too much fear.

As a result, there's too much death. 

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To those that know pray.

To those who don't, imagine the pain...