She left almost as soon as she came. As Keanu Reeves once said, "When all the people you love are gone, you're alone."
And that's what I am. Alone. Rum can't, or won't, do anything.
I'm simply sitting, all day long, whallowing in grief. Watching the sky change colours, slowly, so painfully slowly.
It doesn't matter.
I'm all alone.
Nothing helps, not reading, not eating chocolate, nothing.
I'm just sitting here, forgetting about all the great and wonderful things we used to do.
She's gone. And that's all that matters.
I never realized how much I loved her, until she was gone. My heart has a big hole, that can't be tepmorarly filled with something sweet, something that won't last. Like a Ice Cream cone.
I haven't been out of the house in two years.
What does it matter? My life just simply isn't worth living. Now that She's gone. I find no pleasure in drinking rum, or walking along the beach.
I count how long she's been gone, Two Years, half a day, two mintues, three seconds, since she took her last breath.
Memories haunt me a night, her cold pale hand, reaching for my warm one, but then dropping apon the covers. Dead. She was so young. I am unable to cry, it's too sad for tears.
Sometimes I see her, running carefree along the edge of the beach, her little feet skimming the clear blue waves. I used to chase her, but, when I never caught her, I'd just yell at the sky. I don't chase her anymore, although I know she wants me too.
People used to come, a few weeks, maybe even a month after her death, when it affected them the most. Their words ment nothing to me. They said they cared about her, but I loved her, and it was a love deeper then even I can understand. Nobody comes anymore.
Normal people get over deaths quickly, and then return to their normal lifes. Normally.
But, I can't do that, because, she was my life.
And she was the only girl that ever truely loved me.
People told me, that I should just take her picture off the mantle, move to the States, and find a job.
I knew they were saying "Forget about her."
I can't forget.
I won't forget.
They have no idea.
I just can't start a new life, acting like she never died, I'm not going to run away from the fact that she was the only person I really cared for. I'm not going to build a bridge over the hole in my heart.
I'm going to sit here.
Like I have for the past Two Years, 3/4's of a day, ten mintues, and 3 seconds.
Being alone.
Because, I Jack, am not going to flee from the house, the kitchen, and the chair, that Elizabeth loved so dearly.