The Fade That Still Hurts

Sometimes when I feel numb, 

I wonder if is this healing? 

Or am I just forgetting the pain?

Some people might think I’ve finally let go.

But that’s just wishful thinking.

Because I know,

I may not feel it now, but It’s still there. 

Deep inside. 

Hidden.

How do I know?

Because evey time, a song strikes a chord with my depression, 

or when I see anything related to it at all,

I find myself tearing up, in public or at home, no matter where, 

Almost ripping off this mask I put it on,

without warning.

Some memories start to fade from the surface.

It’s devastating to realize I can barely remember how my friend sounded. 

How he looked. 

The one I called my best friend is fading away.

And that hurts more than I know how to say.

But it’s not just him. It’s everything.

The good memories. 

The laughter. 

The drinks we shared. 

The long, meaningless conversations that meant everything at the time. 

They’re slipping away

no matter how tightly I try to hold on.

And all that remains is guilt. Regret. Hollowness.

Why does it have to be like this?

Why does grief erase the light and leave only the shadow?

Maybe that's  why I try to carry others burden, 

to fill the space he left. 

Maybe to feel useful. 

Maybe to distract myself from the ache I can’t name.

Old friends who moved away from me used to say

Move on. 

Try to be happy. 

Do things that bring you joy.

If only it were that easy.

I’ve fallen to the bottom too many times. And now, 

I fear the climb. 

Because the higher I go, 

the harder the fall if things go wrong again.

So I stay here. 

In the quiet. 

In the numbness. 

Maybe this is what grief becomes 

It is not loud, 

not sharp, 

but soft and slow. 

A quiet erosion of everything that once mattered.

And maybe that’s why the fade does not bring me peace,

Maybe that's why it still hurts.