i feel so empty. it's been a week since his death and i feel like a weight has been placed on my chest. it's hard to get out of bed. it's hard to focus. i sit in class and avoid my work, i'm reading articles about his death and the thousands of messages people have posted online describing his impact on their lives and expressing their condolences.
it's hard. he'll never share another meme with me. never send one of his latest photos in our family group chat. i'll never be able to visit him in chicago, where he was going to leave to. he'll never see me graduate. he died not knowing where i was going to go to college.
the world doesn't feel right anymore without him. i know countless amounts of people die every day, but it's especially hard when it's your family. it's especially hard when they're young. it's especially hard when it was a tragic accident.
i wish he were here with me. i wish i could've given him one last hug. i wish i would've taken greater advantage of the time we had together. i wish i hadn't taken it for granted. every moment that i rather had stayed alone when he was around or decided not to see him when i could have is coated in a thick coat of guilt.
thoughts of suicide have come across my mind. what if? you know? i could be with him. i'm not sure if i believe in an afterlife, but the worst case scenario is just... an end. but i'm scared of death. i couldn't do that. not to me. not to my mother who would crumble if i died.
so now i just try to carry on. it's difficult. i feel heavy and tired and there's a magnet that's pulling me to my bed. but... i have to keep on going. he would've wanted for me to succeed.