Nothing happens when you die. Nothing.

Ask how I know.

If you’re lucky, you left something behind. A legacy, if you will. Or maybe a mystery.

The only thing that is certain is you are no longer there to protect your secrets. Your lies.

There’s no light. No angel. No second chances.

Or, there is a third possibility.

Maybe no one will even notice you are gone. No legacy. No mystery. Simply a void. But really, who among us is that lucky?

I’ll never forget how much you cared. You were the only one who checked in on me.

Hell, I didn’t even care. Maybe that’s the problem.

And now. You’re gone. There are hints on the socials that you still care, but you are careful to hide them.

And now. There is another. She cares. She checks in on me—even when I don’t care about myself. Yes, maybe that’s the problem.

Like you, she’s beautiful. And charming. And fascinating. And crazy smart. And she’ll leave some day. And that keeps me guarded against her.

And it’s hard to care about someone who doesn’t care about himself.

Yes. Maybe I’m the problem. And that’s fine. And once again, I will say goodbye to the one who knows me best. And slink back into the shadows. Where I belong.

I enjoy my solitude. I really do.

Buuut…

Never have I ever felt so alone.

I really like(d) you. I enjoy your perspective. Your insights.

And now I’ve made a big mistake. And you’re gone. And I’m alone.

I guess I don’t learn.

What i'm listening to:

Would?
Alice in Chains
Dirt