I’ve felt home with someone. Real, true, pure home. There was so much joy in breathing around them. Everything was beautiful. It was like a movie. Every movement was a beautiful, well thought out scene. Then it just fucking ended. It went from perfection to burnt negatives on the ground. It was thrown away like it was nothing. It was seeing everything to being shoved into darkness again. Like someone was sitting on my shoulders in water where I couldn’t touch. I craved sobriety when I was with him because I didn’t need anything else. Being sober and alive was so fucking beautiful that I never wanted it to end. Now it all reminds me of him and that feeling and I just want to escape it. My body is a ship with cracks and I’m taking on water fast. Or I was. I’m getting through it now and becoming stronger but the flooding thoughts ache. I wish I could just shut it off. But I am learning from it, as I should. I’ll be better than fine. My friend, Gaby, told me I needed to grieve. I tried to just avoid it this time. I didn’t want to be seen getting hurt once more. It happens all the time and I feel as if I’m making a name for myself. So I just shook it off and tried to cover it up. I told myself he wasn’t good enough for my grief. But maybe I am. I think I owe it to myself to grieve.