Death is nothing at all, and that is the worst part. I am still me and he is still him. He still has the same name, the same likes and dislikes. He’s still the 21 year old boy I fell in love with. Nothing has really changed, in the big picture. The world has gone on and life will go on.
It has changed my world.
The grieving do not just lose a loved one — they lose a sense of themselves; they lose security, trust, hope of the future. They lose a piece of themselves. A big black hole etched into their story, over the place their favorite character used to be.
He will always be the 21 year old boy I fell in love with, that will never change, but never the man I marry. Never the father of my children, never the man I grow old with. And that’s the worst part.
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