Empty

Its funny how words can suddenly remind us of how pathetic humans truly are. How the pain just eases into a sort of numbness that you feel but can't shake. It's a horrible feeling. And yet it feels right. That numbness around my heart reminds me of the truth that I tried to forget.


Middle of the fight between me and my sister:


"It's a good thing we're going." I yelled back. "That way everyone can see the way you've changed."

"Well, at least I have friends to go to."

It was long after she strode out the room and I was gazing at the blank wall in our room that it hit me. Deeply.

She was right. I had no friends. But all this time it never bothered me because she was the only friend I needed, the only friend I trusted.

Now she, too, was gone.

I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to see. Now its clear before me.

I am truly alone.

And even though I may not have any friends, even though many people find me weird and strange, even after being called antisocial and a loner, even though I prefer my books over going out and I'm too shy to go up to talk to people, at least I know who I am.

And yet her words sting even at the memory of the event. The very person I used to call my friend, my sister, my other half...

Is this what it feels like to be empty?



For all the tears I shed that night and all the nights before... those were the last that'll fall for her.