and as she weeped for his last dying breathe, the sorrowful sound of the air leaving his parted lips without a sweet goodbye, and she felt no more. no sorrow. no shame. no hurt. no pain. no love.
she plunged into a spiraling feeling of ,just...nothingness.
she managed to live her days, slowly, surely making her way home. to sit and stare at the last picture she had of him. then, it hit her. without so much as a thought she whipped the picture frame across the room and the space was no longer silent as the piercing sounds of the silver frame and glass shattered to a million pieces. she felt... she felt... sorrow for as he was young and not able to live a life. shame for how she pushed it aside and attempted to cope. hurt because he left her without a sweet goodbye. pain that he was gone and no more would she touch him, feel his breathe on her skin, and no more loving sarcastic remarks, no reruns of SNL and sleepovers, no more movie marathons and trips to the park to play on the swings like they did when they were young, no more midnight movies, and mini golf, or ice cream late at night on a hot summer evening. and love... yeah well, love was the last thing she thought she would feel. but it was there. it was most definitely there. apparent, nagging her. love for how he was so strong. love for how he never gave up. love for his determination and perseverance. and love for him as a person because she always wished she could be more like him. but that love turned to a broken heart without that sweet goodbye.