It’s been a month since I last saw his face. In some place other than just my memory, or in pictures. Even at the funeral, where I was almost kept out, it felt like I’d died, instead of him. Like my body was lying, motionless, lifeless, instead of his. I feel the warm salty rivers running down my cheeks, as I think about him, once more. Everything I see is hazy with my tears in my eyes, and everything I can see through the haze is a new attempt at suicide. The desk, the paperclip, the pen in my damp hand at wiping away the tears, the peice of beige yarn that’s on the floor.
A teacher comes to me, with open arms, trying to comfort me.
Do you need to go outside for a drink of water?
That’s when I realize; It’s science class. Thirty pairs of eyes staring at me, like I’m a freak.
No I sniffle, and wipe more rivers of pain off my face, trying to look strong.
What I really needed was my best friend, my love, my…well, my everything, but the only way I could have him back, was if I was in a casket too