There she goes. Her car pulls out of the driveway, he picks up the last box and walks out the door, they leave you with a chaste kiss on the cheeks and, whoever it may be, is completely, unequivocally, gone.
“I’ll call you every day, you won’t even notice I’m gone!” These words were like a heavy sedative to your panic. Every day? Every day. Good. As long as I know you’re still somewhere, it’ll be fine! Everything’s fine, goodbye and now a proper congratulations because I mean it. As long as you call me, I know you’re not gone.
Then the smile leaves your view, all you see is a head of hair getting farther and farther away till it’s not there anymore. Not right next to you, it hurts when you’re wrong. A phone call—even a regular every day one—is not going to cut it; you know it’s not going to cut it, how could you be so stupid?
Not that you couldn’t stop them from leaving anyway, but come on, you could have tried begging. That might have worked. Just one more day, maybe a week? A month? A couple of years? Never leave, I don’t think I could take the sight of seeing you go. But you just did, and who would have known you’d be right! You can’t take it! Not at all. It hurts being right, too.
Alright, enough with the poetry stuff, it’s really not my thing if you haven’t noticed.
Very edgy. Not into it.
From you reading the title and getting this far I’m guessing you’re in a pretty intense level of angst. Seeing that title and being like "yeah, that relates to me"? Heavy stuff, man. I’m sorry for your loss. I think I almost understand? I mean, I really did when I started writing this but then I started feeling better, unfortunately for you.
So, I’m now here to tell you to chin the heck up. Seriously. There are more people in your life besides this one yahoo, and they all care for you so much and cannot stand seeing you this upset. You’ve indulged in your sadness and they are suffering for it; they’re worried for you. Do you really want to put them through the same emotional turmoil that you’ve had to suffer? Of course not, so put on a front, for their sake, at the very least.
Also, if you’re going to keep going like this, finishing off your cycle of grief, you should know first that it’s a long cycle. I’m just saying, if you thought you’d be sad for a little and then be happy immediately after, then you are certainly misinformed. Grieve, sure, but push yourself. Push yourself to get better, to heal. It’s true that time heals most wounds, but you also need to do your part, too. It’ll be okay, as long as you try to make it that way; then it will eventually be okay.
Also, pro-tip here: write bad poetry. Very therapeutic.