You're gone

You were here once, but you left. It wasn't because I did something; you didn't do anything either. You were my best friend, and you had my whole heart.

You took who I was, with you. I won't ever know that part of me again.

You were my saving grace, the one thing that saved me from myself. I cared about you more than anything.

My grief isn't a constant ache. It comes in waves. It knocks me backwards,and I get my ground again. Then it knocks me over once more, because there is no winning against grief. You can only be a victim.

I don't know when I stopped grieving you, but I know it took a long time. I didn't do it on purpose, I swear. It doesn't mean I don't miss you, I do. It doesn't mean that it hurts less, it doesn't. All it means is that I got used to the pain of your absence.

I got used to missing you, but once a year on the day you died, I remember it all too well. That awful day, that took my best friend away. I tell myself that I can't change anything, but the worst part is the hope. The week before you died, you were so much better. It was like you were healing, but apparently it was just false assurance. The hope that everything was getting better, kills me. It hurts to this day, my friend.

I miss you, so much. You were my pet, but also much, much more. Goodbye. I love you.