Loss

Loss. It’s a sad emotion. It hurts to feel. It happens, even though we don’t want it. I hate it. We all should hate it. Those who don’t, well they’re just psychotic. We all experience loss. Whether it be: the death of a family member, a pet running away, the ending of a friendship. It’s always there, and it’s always prominent. I’ve experienced it recently. I loathe saying this, but it’s true. I’ve lost someone dear to me. He was the best person I’ve ever met. He made me happy, truly happy. I felt safe in his arms, protected in his hold. He made the voices disappear. He made my problems go away. Now he’s not here, and all I feel is numb. The pain of the rubber, the only thing that makes me feel. The sharpness of a pencil, makes me feel alive. I wish he was here. I want him here. I need his warmth, I need his protection. I need his voice, to tell me everything’s ok. I need his hold, to know that I’m safe. I need him. But I lost him. And I hate that I’ll never have him again.