It's over.
It hurts. Deep in your chest to the point you have to rip off your clothes to be sure you're not bruised. Where your stomach is churning so much you're convinced you've eaten something rotten. You're crying so much you're convinced you'll pass out from the lack of water. You hope you do. You wish you would. You're desperate.
It's over, and I know I'll be fine. That's the worst part. That's what no one tells you.
I know for a fact the sun will rise tomorrow. I'll go to work. I'll probably even laugh at something, aloud or to myself. I'll forget about it, even if it's just for a second.
It'll come back in waves. Harsh, soul crushing fucking waves. But that's not the worst part.
Maybe I'll cry in the car. Breakdown in the shower. Sob before falling asleep. And that will be the easy parts of it.
Because you know what?
The car will still get where it's going. The shower will eventually end. I'll wake up after falling asleep.
Time will move on, I will move on, I will forget.
I will be forgotten.
Moments where I don't think about it will turn into minutes into hours into days until someone brings it up to me, so long from now, and I'll have the audacity to laugh and say, "I haven't thought about that in years."
It will be a memory. Faded. Replaced. Forgotten, until an external source brings it back to light.
That will happen to me too.
And that fucking sucks. That's what hurts.
Because I know that will happen. But in accepting that and using it as a way to cope, I must acknowledge the flip side: that will happen to me too.
My character will be replaced. Seasons down the line, a tertiary character will use me as an example. A lesson. A punchline, maybe.
And I'm terrified.
This means so much to me right now, and even though it's natural, I can't stand it. I can't handle that in so many years, one of your friends or parents or kids will bring me up and you'll think, "I can't think of the last time I thought about them."
And I'll stay the same. And it'll get better and easier and happier and I'll think about how this was a turning point. How this was a blessing in disguise. The best thing that ever happened to me.
But so will you.
And that's supposed to be okay.
Maybe one day, it will be.
