lostjunkshot

You ever have one of those days when... you finally are back, your health is good, and then it happens. This tiny glass ball you call your world is shattered, the pieces scatter the floor, cutting into your skin as you try to walk away and hold your head up. But all you can think about is the pain, and it wracks you. The shock is so bad, that the real depression hasn't even set it, it's not the nagging ache like days after the knife went in, it's that fresh, burning, seething sensation as your flesh first is torn open. And you just stand there, shocked, and bleed out years of your life... You just stare at the wall, and your only confort is the technicolor glow of a computer screen. Your only therapy, to put the words echoing in your head down in print. And even then, it comes rushing to the surface like fresh blood as air hits the wound. You can't breathe, you can't think, you just... exist. And when you survive, you find a new day, and everything is different.
No matter how much you want it to have been different, you know it has to be like this. This was the intention. Not all along, but just as you realized what you were, and why that just would not do. And you feel dead inside. But the pain is there, and it reminds you, much to your chagrin, that grudgingly, you are alive, and must go on.

Without her.