I glance at the clock on my nightstand. 3:38am. I sigh as I check my phone and see that it’s October 15. It’s been 6 months and it’s not any easier. The event is stuck in my mind as if it happened a minute ago. The pain is still there.
I look up at the ceiling in the dark suffocating room. It’s surprising how something becomes everything and then nothing in a matter of seconds. I began to hate this room. I began to hate this architecture I called home. It’s all so useless. It’s been so long, tears don’t seem to be able to spill.
As I turn the lamp on, I sit up on the bed and turn, looking at the mirror on the dresser. I see a skinny, pale girl, with no emotion on her face. I begin to wonder if people can see the pain I am feeling. I wonder if people can tell what I’ve been going through. I know they do. They clearly do, because I can see it myself and my family complain about it too. My good for nothing family complain about the pain I’m going through. I scoff. No one understands.
I’ve tried getting help, I really have. Psychologists, doctors, therapists, family, friends. I get hope that someone will be able to stop my pain, but they can’t. They all say the same crap and it doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t make the pain go away. Nothing works. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll get through this. It’ll get better.” NOTHING will get better. They don’t understand the pain, so they don’t know what to say. It’s not easy. It will not be okay and it will not get better. Nothing is easy about losing the person you love the most.
  Losing someone that meant absolutely everything to you is the worst pain, and no one can cure that. I will never stop hurting. Yes, I may have a small smile on my face, act as if everything is fine, but that’s exactly what it is: an act. It’s a mask I will put on my face every time I walk out the door because I’m sick and tired of people taking pity on me. The memories, the pain, the guilt; it will always be there, in the back of my mind. I feel nothing inside. I feel empty. People will never understand unless they go through what I went through.
Never being able to see him again. No more waiting for him to get home with food on the table. Never being able to hear his laughter, see his smile, have heart felt conversations with him. Every single thing changes. It’s all so different and lonely. Feeling so alone and empty inside. Nothing will change that. Nothing is going to stop this pain. Nothing.