𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙸𝙳𝚂𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳
Who would have thought that the future of the world could consist of a deadly virus potentially wiping out the entire human race?
At least that's what everyone's told and what Millie and her group thinks...
I'll also be posting more music that relates to the book-- I've used for writing :) The one above: Another Love - Tom Odell
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Loss.
A word such as this awakens memories, usually yearning to have what and who you've lost. For everything to return. It consumes our entirety, being left to feel sadness and wanting to feel just anything once again. Gradually turning its course to acceptance. Acceptance takes a long ass time.
Loss is a word to describe a wide variety of things in life. You hear the word and a million answers and questions pop up in your head.
Parts of me that have vanished into thin air, hard to even grasp back. Where giving up isn't really an option and it shouldn't be even when we feel like it's the only thing that we can do.
Do you ever wish to go back to a certain time or place? Just to feel a couple of things once more or even to know how important those memories are going to be while living in it. Just for you to hold onto them tighter. The people, places and time.
You could be different and more grateful. I hate loss. Whether it's losing a part of myself, losing someone else or both.
A word that's full of sadness, bittersweet memories and pain. For me, it's just pain. They were all gone now. Everyone from my past, ones whom I loved; all gone. All I could do was hold onto those memories, replay those memories over and over again. Memories that fade by age.
Finding ways to hold on to their voices and laughter until one day that starts to disappear too. Unfortunately, after that it just becomes the game of wonder. What did they once sound like? How was the twinkle in their eyes whenever they'd smile?
You wish you could have taken a picture or even recorded it but sometimes even those get lost and then you have nothing. And nothing is an awful lot of something.
-----
It had been another week in the bunker and I was glad that Finn was in the same room with me. He would have been another loss to add to my sinking ship. You sail without knowing how big the storm is until the storm becomes worse than what you expected and then the ship sinks.
Finn was the life raft for me. The only hope to make it back safely onto the shore. Back to life, maybe even away from some of the pain and numbness. A liferaft for my soon to be emotionless self.
"We need to get out of here," I tell Finn as we lay on my bed. My hair is tangled and messy rested on his chest. He didn't seem to mind the fact that even when I tried to fix my hair away from tickling his face, it just didn't cooperate.
