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Let It Pass
All do can do it sit there and wait for it to pass. Wait for the sadness to pass, for the tears to stop, for all of it to just go away and leave you an empty, hollow shell. A shattered soul, at least until you can pick yourself back up and put together the pieces. You can only sit there and wait for everything to blow over. You are aware of nothing - only that the hole in your heart is aching, is pulling you down, tearing you apart from the inside.
But you can only sit there. Stay there and let it pass.
Family members look on at you. They ask about you, they try to help you. They are only distractions.
Friends worry when you don't return their texts, their calls, their emails. They try to lure you outside. They are only a distraction from the gaping hole in your heart.
Few truly understand the blackness that has edged itself into your very being. They tell you that the traces will leave you eventually. That everything gets better.
It does not. They are only a distraction.
But as your thoughts plunge deeper and darker, you gain ground on them. They are just fantasy. A cruel, dark fantasy, but a fantasy all the same.
You rise from your seat, pick up your things and move on. Those around you smile and ask, "Is everything alright?"
You grin halfheartedly in return.
"I'm fine."
But you are not fine. Being fine is just a fantasy, just a distraction.
Or so the blackness tells you.
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