I can’t bring myself to even finish putting my thoughts into this paper, or at the very least my thoughts into words. I feel like I am about to crash into a bastioned wall, which wouldn’t burst despite the rather powerful smash. After crashing, I’d enter entropy. I am dying. A few more days, I’d either scotch my wrists, get into an overdose or jump off a building, and no one will even notice I am gone. No one will care.
As I deal with my own demise, I see a face. Only your face. By this time, you ought to be fading away from my thoughts. But no, I still see your face with my bare eyes. Something in me wants to hold on to you. Or rather, my entire self wants to. But you will never get it anyway. I love you. Cue requiem.