Legendary // H.S

60.

TW: there's a mention of sexual assault and the aftermath of it (specifically police proceedings). as always there will be links below for survivor support. i love you all.

*

'I'm talking to the walls

But the walls keep caving in'

*

Today is the first day I've left my bed. Today is the first day that I have showered, got dressed and eaten a full meal. Today is the day I say goodbye to my father, forever.

I've spent the past two weeks in a state of shock, almost convincing myself that it's just a dream, that I didn't witness my best friend die. A spiral has formed around me, and I keep spinning through it with no end in sight. It's made me dizzy and lightheaded, any time I move sending me through another loop. Round and round I go, seeing everything flash before me at a dangerously intoxicating speed. Sometimes I feel I have to hold on for dear life. My knuckles start to ache through how tightly I grip the sheets around me. But in the end, I'm exactly where I was before. Laying alone, grieving a person I wasn't ready to lose just yet.

Grief is such a conflicting feeling. It is the end of a familiar pattern, a change to it. Sudden and unexpected. It completely turns your world upside down. Even that seems like an understatement. The notion of continuing to live when someone as wonderful as Dad is gone, it doesn't seem right. It is wrong for me to breathe when he should be the one inhaling it. He should be the one smiling and laughing and experiencing the sun and the moon. Not me. I can't without him.

When someone dies, it is the end of the familiar. It's been stolen out from under me. My safety net disappeared and now I must face the prospect of falling into an abyss. I began to fall the minute he closed his eyes for a final time. As the skin enveloped his pupils, I knew I would never recover. A piece of me died with him. I'll never get it back, I'm not sure I even want it. Because if it is returned it will mean I am comfortable without Dad around, and that's just not possible.

It is no surprise to me that pain is all I've felt. There's been no relief, despite how much I've tried. I would look at our pictures, hold his sketches, watch videos back. But all it brought me was emptiness. Sometimes, when it gets really bad, I forget what caused it, because I'm in so deep that I can no longer see the start of it. Just darkness. That's all I see and feel these days. When I lay in bed, nothing is visible around me. I stare into nothing, I feel nothing. Then it hits me again, and my body writhes in pain as I scream out sobs for him to return.

But he won't return. He's dead. My dad is dead. And I can't even find someone to be mad at, I can't hunt down whoever killed him because no one did; this was natural. Something I knew was coming but didn't want to admit. Despite my knowledge of his deteriorating health, I never expected this to happen. There is no one to blame here. At first I pondered the idea of blaming Dad, but to do so is a crime in itself. He is not the villain. Just a victim.

After any moment of sleep, of which has been infrequent lately, in the first few minutes I forget what happened. In my mind, he's still just a phone call away. I see the sun and I'm thankful to be alive another day so I can remain within his orbit. Then I remember. It feels like I'm reaching out for someone that's always been there, only to find that they're not. Hopelessly waving my arms around until they latch onto someone. They never do, though.

I know that if my life were to end now, if for whatever reason I stopped breathing, I'd find him again. In another life, we would be reunited. He would hold me and I would get to hear his voice. I would get to tell him just how much I love him. He'd comfort me, he'd never let me go. I'd never have to worry about being alone again. We'd be together for eternity.