empty

I'm haunted by thoughts of spending my favourite seasons alone. I won't see a handsome boy laced in spider bunting on Halloween. I won't stand with him in front of a bonfire admiring fireworks, I'll be lonely on my birthday but surely, worst of all will be Christmas. I won't be able to snuggle up with anyone infront of a fire, whilst he puts up with the list of cheesy films I traditionally must watch. There will be no hand over of presents and no "I love yous" and it rips me apart. It's almost as if there has been a gigantic hole punched into my chest. What am I meant to say or do? There was once a time I thought things could be fixed if I sewn together pretty sentences, describing how much that one person meant to me. Words are just that now, words. Nothing special or spectacular. They don't get me anywhere, just into trouble a lot of the time. I feel hallow and empty and everything hurts, but at the same time, I'm numb to everything. Nothing matters. Every single thing reminds me of him. Every item of clothing that I own can be linked back to a time or place spent with  him, every room in the house has seen his face, songs, television programmes, smells, everything. How am I meant to work around this when everything has been touched by him? I always knew I wasn't good enough for somebody so perfect, but my selfish side always thought I'd keep him captured and to myself forever. I wasn't ready for this... this sense of loss.