Life.

lost

It's a queer feeling.
It's uncomfortable.
It's confusing.
It all happened so fast. Like a meteor striking the earth. The world was alight with burning fire. Anger, confusion, and distrust swarmed through the lives around me.
I, on the other hand, became the opposite. I wasn't scared or upset. I was roaming aimlessly. I was thriving from a cold numbness that my body allowed me to feel. Hell, was isn't even the right word. I am still roaming. It's almost an unconscious thing. I don't notice I'm lost until I think about being found. It has consumed my subconscious. Driving past your house everyday I see your vehicle. Polished and gleaming thinking "Oh, he's home early today," I even catch myself saying it aloud sometimes. The people I'm with just look at me with sorrow, and I don't notice my mistake until after its already been made. You're not coming home. Ever. But I can't get it through my head. My mind won't except it. No matter how many times I say it allowed; no matter how many times I watch my beautiful family cry; no matter how many times I walk in and you're not there, my mind just won't come to terms with the cold truth. You're gone, and you won't come back.