MiuraEri

At her deathbed, she asked me to promise that I would not cry and that I would go on with my life. It was the hardest thing she had ever asked me, I answered as follow. -I cannot promise you that I will not cry, for I will, a lot. I cannot promise you that it will not hurt, because as of now it is already hurting, very much. You are leaving a void, which cannot be filled. It may be healed but it will always be there in the end. I paused, swallowing thickly, my eyes were brimming with tears, but none would fall. -But I can promise you that I will be happy and I will do my best to live life to the fullest, until comes my time to follow you.  I

I think it’s comming back. I can feel it crawling slowly up my spine and sinking it’s poisonous claws in my mind, I can feel it squeezing my heart… painfully and seeping a black voidness of an uncaring state of heart? mind? disposition? You realize you’re always confused about what you are supposed to feel, if you feel anything at all at momments. You want things and have dreams, but actually don’t care about those things, it has become a strange notion, like a dream long forgotten and you get only wisps of it to concentrate on. You know you have to do things and you’re actually screamming inside your mind