Tracing my steps to a road back in time 
where I knew what it felt like to have you alive, 
to find that I burnt all the bridges I've crossed 
and you're on the wrong side of all that I've lost. 

So I try to move forward, but there's no getting through. 
And if there's no you, what the hell do I do? 
I'm stuck at a crossroads with no end in sight; 
no long winding tunnel, no glimpse of a light. 

I'll talk to the ceiling, scream at the sky; 
they say it gets better, 
why the hell do they lie? 
You gave me a mountain; I'll never move it. 
I'll never get better. 
I can't even try. 

Each night that I get is absent of ease. 
Those dreams that I have, I'm screaming out 'please'. 
And I know that God listens, I told you before. 
I'm on my knees begging. Think I have the wrong door. 

I'll talk to the ceiling, scream at the sky; 
they say it gets better, 
why the hell do they lie? 
The mountain keeps growing, I keep falling backwards. 
I'll never get better. 
And never goodbye. 

Like sinking in quicksand, the more that I move, 
I just fall in further; this has me consumed. 
So I float to the bottom and debate on my last breath. 
Is this what it felt like when you ran head first into death? 

I cry to the ceiling, cry to the sky. 
I hope it gets better. 
Hope I'll be alright. 
I know there's a mountain. 
I'll see you above it.
Someday I'll be braver; 
it might take some time. 

Someday I'll be better 
and give you goodbye.  

'Give You Goodbye' - 07/07/2024.
You gave me a mountain; I'll never move it.

It's almost been 2 months since I lost my friend. And a week tomorrow since I saw a grey pile of ashes underneath a tree that my mind could not comprehend was someone I loved.

One thing I'm struggling with is trying to word that just because it's been 2 months, it does not mean I'm 2 months better, or 2 months stronger, or 2 months healed. It just means I've been feeling this way for 2 months. There's no moving forward, or growing, or feeling better, no matter what it looks like.

I miss him when I'm making dinner, sweeping the floors at work, ironing my clothes, talking to my cat on the stairs, driving home, trying to fall asleep. It's there constantly. Time has done nothing to move me onwards.

I don't know how people get through this.