living a life half-loved.

today was not one of those days that you take with grain of salt and smile through the hard thoughts, like a grain of sand in your fresh strawberry.

today, it gnawed away at the sunshine and drove me back under my blanket to think of another hour. it beat down on me with hammers and blunt comments. if i go any further, i'm afraid that i won't come back.

living days without him is a colorless force to face with no defense and bleak beginnings. i hate going to bed, and the only thing i hate more is getting up in the morning to not really living. i haven't really lived, and i'm not sure we can fit it into the schedule.

i'm just a kid. i'm only this pale face in a crowd who always appears to have the sun in her eyes, squinting past the light. i'm just finding small objects and caressing them with the only likeness of love i can muster. i'm just a fucking kid. i haven't really lived.

i'm just this goddamn kid who couldn't have really felt anything, or really known love, or made true promises, or disappointed anyone, or eaten her own words, or experienced guilt, or compromised actuality for loneliness. i'm just a kid, right? this couldn't be serious. i've got nothing but time on my hands, and how could i lose hope now? the love of your life happens once in a lifetime, and i've got the rest of it to go.

what happens when you're wrong? when he died before we had a chance to tell the world? when youth is wasted on us? when the love of my life has already happened and i'm supposed to look toward this hideous tomorrow that you're trying to build for me?

he didn't dump me or cheat on me or leave me with wondering if he was sleeping alone. he died. he's gone. there is no rebound and there is no love and there is no end to this searing pain.

i've got the rest of my life right? yeah, well, the way i look at it ... i've got the rest of my goddamn life, and all of it has to be without him.

there will never be love like that again. there will never be that unconditional tone or that loud brilliance or those tender touches ... not like that.

the love of my life is gone. my life of love was buried with him. so you tell me ... since i'm just a kid ... where does my life go when i can never love again?

oh, i'm still young ... it's heartbreaking and terrible ... but it couldn't have been love, right? i'm just a kid ... we don't feel that deeply, we can't know from tragedy, and we've got the rest of our lives to learn what real love is.

so where's the rest of his?