I was standing in front of Matt’s portrait last night and started crying. It was a new cry though – I wasn’t crying because I was sad that Matt is gone. I was crying because I was sad that life is so futile. We think we’re suck a huge fucking deal, but we aren’t. And Matt will be forgotten. I will be forgotten. Literally almost every single person who has lived, will live, or is alive now, will be forgotten. We will all die, and our bodies will turn back into dust.

I wish I knew what happened to our consciousnesses. Most of the crying was because I believe that they just cease to be.

Published by

erinreeve

I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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