He was empty. Everything was a dull gray, unlike the spark of colors he used to always see everywhere. Half of him was gone, and there was no getting it back. It was as if a Dementor had taken his soul, or worse, taken his reason for living, but left enough emotions for him to mourn the loss. All those memories. Each was a stab to the gut, as well as a soothing touch. Each made him want to die, as well as keep himself alive. Keep himself alive to honor him. Fred.
