A gaping hole.
Consuming. Devouring. Me.
Where is my other half?
Where did my life go?
One moment I was a child, and Fred was there.
The next I'm a depression-riddled adult and Fred is gone.
My wife and children try to understand. They can't.
Who could know what its like to lose yourself and live on?
For so long it had been Fred and George, not George, not Fred, but the both of us.
Now its just George, me, and my name is said in shades of pity.
A gaping hole where I used to be.
Last Man Standing Competition, Week Two: Canon.