Dead. Only on the inside that is but I think that is the worst way to die. To have your soul ripped out. Your heart shattered into million sharp pieces. Physical death is nothing compared to this pain. I never feared death. Not in the common way. But this is even enough to stand for me. Not even the rum can soothe the pain, and believe me, I tried it. Tried to drown it. I failed miserably. I can still smell her. This familiar smell. It's still all around me yet so far away. Sometimes, when I'm somewhere between wake and dream, I can even feel her rocking movements. At least I think I do. Call it insanity. But if it is I don't suffer from it. I'm enjoying every single moment of it. Those dazed moments when it feels as if she was here. Under me. Surrounding me. When I can hear her planks silently crack, her keel parting the waves. When I can here the wind whisper in her sails. I know it is not for real but I wish it was. Even more than I wish that I was dead. And I do. I can't even hate myself for this frailty, this gutlessness. I'm empty. Hollow. All that is allowed to fill me is the rum, sweet oblivion of mine. All that fills me is this said liquid, along with the pain, the desperation. I'm drowning it, one day. I'm trying hard. There is no life for me without her. I know I should fight to get her back. But fighting is too hard to even think about when all you wanna do is lay around somewhere, not thinking at all. Sometimes when it feels as if she was here, I feel so helpless. Just the way I felt when they went against me. Took my life away. And let me live to suffer. Well, they didn't let me live on purpose, that's for sure. It's my fault that I didn't take the bullet for me. The one they granted me. My fault that I kept it. Stupid idea of mine to spare it for him. How should I ever get him. With a ship like her. My life. Senseless plan. If I only had a plan. The rum makes it easy to forget but hard to plan. Hard to do anything than forget. Why should I do anything else. To get her back? I think I should give up on that thought. She's gone. I'm gone. Captain Jack Sparrow is past.