A journal I guess

I miss it.

I know I seem unaffected by all of this to you. You probably think I'm used to it by now. This strange new world without the things I used to know. But, you'd be wrong. I, I miss it. All of the ashes keep piling up. The bodies keep falling from the sky like rain. It hurts. I told you, I'm still human. I feel hurt and confused. I'm not all knowing and wise. And this hurts. All of the things I've lost hurt. I remember every excruciating detail, and that's what makes it so painful. Those people all meant something to me; they were my friends, companions, family, foes, frenemies, spouses, children, the list goes on and on. Imagine a world where you remember everyone you've ever loved, but they don't exist anymore They're gone, turned to dust, and there's no way in the entire cosmos you can bring them back. Thousands of different lives, all ending with the same heavy word: Loss.

You've all lost something. Maybe you can sympathize. Maybe you yourself remember past timelines, and weep like me. It's a gasping loss of something you still feel alive inside you; as if your soul and your heart still reach for kindling that has long burnt out. Unless you remember, you can hardly understand. And then you remember, oh my stars, they're all dead, and the dreadful pain wells up in your chest and your throat, digging a deeper hole in your heart. You couldn't understand. You don't understand the emptiness of existing in a world that doesn't have the things you love in it. You might have lost family members, but have you lost everything you've ever loved, in a thousand different worlds, a thousand times over? I didn't think so.

Call me weak, or pathetic, or a crybaby. But this is what being human is all about. The connections we have with other people. It isn't weak to love. It's weak to be afraid of love. Love doesn't get in the way, fear does. Grief and love go hand in hand so often, that it's tearing me limb from limb. I grieve, I grieve over so many, and it burns my insides like a hellfire. I've loved and I've lost and the pain is incomprehensibly great. I wish it would stop. How does so much grief fit inside one person, one mind? So many memories of things I shouldn't remember, of tragedy and war and famine, of a time where people were simple and full of compassion. Determined people, full of strength, fighting for a cause they believed to be right. People, my people, the people I love. It isn't loved, or used to love, because this grief is proof enough that I still do. I love every single thing that I've lost, still, and it's unfathomably painful. It burns against my soul so deeply that no words could ever describe it.

I remember times of greatness, of kindness, of hatred and love, times that truly showed the vileness of human nature, times that showed our generosity and our sacrifices. All of this, cramped inside one single mind, it's so incredibly overwhelming. Confusing. It makes me feel lost, more than knowledgeable. It's all jumbled and blurry and so very vast, and I just can't describe how much pain I'm in. An immortal soul is a curse. A curse I'm not willing to feed. I can't go on this way, full of sadness and emptiness, searching for fragments of a world lost to time. I miss it all. I miss it so much. If only you could feel the choking sadness from across the screen. If only I could show you how horrific it all is, maybe you'd finally leave well enough alone. You'd move on with your life and never get tangled up in something like this. You'd escape. But that's not going to happen, because you people are as stubborn as it gets! And that angers me, you know why it angers me? Because that same stubbornness, that same STICKING YOUR NOSE WHERE IT DOESN'T BELONG, got all those people killed! And I'm sick of loss, I'm sick of death, I'm sick of it all! Just STOP! Stop and consider that maybe, what you're doing is affecting other people, too! The people you love! You're slowly killing yourself and the people around you, open your EYES

What will it take for this insanity to be over? How many graves do I have to dig before They call it quits? I'm so incredibly tired and I wish I had a solution. I miss home! I miss everything about that chaotic Lovecraftian world, it's where I belonged and always will belong. I miss the factions and the creatures and the people, especially. Because through all of the chaos, we still managed to connect and understand each other. It didn't matter who you were or where you came from, who you served, we still managed to find our humanity, by looking inside each other. But this timeline is so bland. It doesn't have the same magic, the same connections. Most don't even know the truth. Most don't even remember. And it's incredibly lonely. I feel lost in a world much bigger and much more vast than I ever will be. It makes me feel so insignificant and alone. This world is strange to me, it's alien and wrong, and I don't fit in. Not one bit. So I weep for the past that never existed, in hopes it reaches me one day. But until then, I'll never feel complete ever again, and I'll keep picking up the pieces of my broken dimension, trying to put my heart back together again in the process. To the ghosts lingering in the air, I love you. I always will. I wish you could still be by my side. I wish for an impossible thing, I know. But I still dream. Please find me, my love, find me. The love I've sent out to the world. Come back to me. I'm in desperate need of your warmth.

How fragile we humans are. I despise and adore it all the same. I hope, for your sake, you'll never have to suffer through my pain.