dissociatedmess
Member
- Apr 30, 2022
- 16
It borders on obsession.
We all lost you two years ago, and I'm still searching for pieces of your existence.
Compared to everyone else, I didn't really know you. We were friends, we dated in high school, we reconnected.
We found out we both suffer... From the same rare thing.
I was optimistic. I was hopeful.
We could confide in each other. We finally each had someone who not only knew that secret, but understood it because we both suffered.
When I lost you I lost hope. I lost that chance. I lost the memories we didn't get to form.
I miss your messages and your sense of humor. I miss how dark you were and how honest and brutal you knew life was.
I miss the realness of you.
When you died, your sister told me I was a safe space for you. I was important.
I needed so badly to hear that but to this day I question if it's true.
I screamed so hard because I thought that if I could scream hard enough, if i wanted it badly enough, you would come back.
You would not be gone.
You would have been with me that night, like you were supposed to be.
I know I feel so intensely, in a way that isn't healthy.
I know it doesn't make sense to other people.
I grow attachments to people that are so tethered I cannot break from it once they leave.
Maybe I'm wrong for feeling like I cannot escape this grief.
I wonder if you came here.
I wonder if I'm following in your footsteps.
We all lost you two years ago, and I'm still searching for pieces of your existence.
Compared to everyone else, I didn't really know you. We were friends, we dated in high school, we reconnected.
We found out we both suffer... From the same rare thing.
I was optimistic. I was hopeful.
We could confide in each other. We finally each had someone who not only knew that secret, but understood it because we both suffered.
When I lost you I lost hope. I lost that chance. I lost the memories we didn't get to form.
I miss your messages and your sense of humor. I miss how dark you were and how honest and brutal you knew life was.
I miss the realness of you.
When you died, your sister told me I was a safe space for you. I was important.
I needed so badly to hear that but to this day I question if it's true.
I screamed so hard because I thought that if I could scream hard enough, if i wanted it badly enough, you would come back.
You would not be gone.
You would have been with me that night, like you were supposed to be.
I know I feel so intensely, in a way that isn't healthy.
I know it doesn't make sense to other people.
I grow attachments to people that are so tethered I cannot break from it once they leave.
Maybe I'm wrong for feeling like I cannot escape this grief.
I wonder if you came here.
I wonder if I'm following in your footsteps.
