When one dies you just don’t get over it. There becomes a dark hole you stumble into. A hole you never escape, latching onto anything to keep you from hitting rock bottom. People fade, and so do the branches of hope, helping you climb to the top.
Maybe one day you could find something to fill it. Just a little something to get you through this whole epidemic of spiraling unease, and loneliness. People die, and things break. As long as you are here you will quake, trapped inside your heart, struggling to find someone who will understand. Struggling to paste on that fake smile, so people won't notice just how damaged you are. Struggling to cover those vertical lines placed so perfectly on your wrist. Struggling just to live and breath knowing that the days don’t mean anything now that they are gone. Struggling just to stay alive, because you thought about what everyone would say if you failed. You thought about all the “help” everyone will try to give you. You thought of all the loony bins you will travel to and from, because your parents can't handle you anymore. You think upon yourself every dying moment, could I have stopped this? It was all my fault, as you convince yourself that another line of blood from your vein might stop the pain deep inside. You go numb. Life without them is a struggle in itself. So when someone you truly loves dies, you don't just get over it.