Time

It can be a beautiful thing to watch the seasons change but time is moving far too quickly now and I can’t keep up.
I feel as if I’m on a boat or perhaps a plane that’s going full speed through everything I’d rather stop and soak in.
I can’t bare watching as time ticks forward and people come and go. I guess it’s morbid to be attached to darker times and yet here I am letting anxiety get the best of me because it’s already been four months since you died.
I miss you, I miss what could have been. I miss the feeling of never being alone and always having a friend.
You saw the tears and the breakdowns. You saw the people I confided in and those I didn’t turn their backs on me. You saw me shut down and I know that wasn’t easy.
You felt my pain, my hunger through those long days when I couldn’t afford to get lunch, my heartache from being left and my heartache from false love. You felt my body hurting and just how badly I wanted to give up every fucking morning and you got me through it somehow.
The worst hurt looking back now is all that time you were taking care of me I should have been taking care of you. I should have been giving you love and care, I should have paid more attention, I shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid.
I know I can’t change it now, I know I can’t make better decisions but I don’t know how to move on from losing you. I didn’t even realize what presence you held in my world until you were gone, and now how truly alone I am.
The moment I felt the life leave your beautiful little body I knew how selfish I had been, how reckless and how ungrateful. Not just with you but with everyone and everything. I let my self-loathing cloud my judgment and my heart and I have never been more disappointed in myself.
I wish I could hold you and tell you I love you. I wish I could see how beautiful and strong you would grow to be. But more than anything in this world I wish I could tell you how grateful I am for you and all that you did for me and how fucking sorry I am.
That I couldn’t do more, that I couldn’t be more for you.
I want time to stop moving.
The weeks keep rolling by as I stand still, this will be my 17th Thursday without you.
I need the days between you and I to stop growing farther and farther apart.
I haven’t grieved for you enough. Not yet. So please.
Please stop slipping away from me.