In Between { on-going }

If I had known I'd wake up to another nightmare, I never would have chosen to wake up. I'm myself again, but that feeling of being lost remained within me. Everyone is rejoicing around me, but depression is eating me up inside.

Looking at him now, it made everything feel like a dream. Was it -was he just a figment of my imagination? This is reality, but it what we shared in the past month felt more real than anything else that surrounded me right now.

I held his hand, and tears I fought to hold back streamed on my cheeks as I realized there was no more warmth left. I should have stayed longer; I should have waited for him, just as he was willing to wait for me. I made a choice impetuously, and there's nothing I regret more than leaving him so soon: leaving without even saying goodbye.

It was unfair. He was the one who was so full of hope, full of optimism, full of spirit, full of life; yet I'm the one here, enjoying the oxygen his brain was deprived of in his final minutes.

He was more alive than I ever was, even in moments that we weren't alive at all. But that has always been our harsh reality.

We're alive, but never alive enough to live.

~