356 days of Unprocessed Agony

It's been almost a year since my friend passed away, yet the pain still feels like an open wound. I never expected to lose her, and her sudden departure left me reeling. We weren't extremely close, but her presence in my life was significant enough to leave a lasting impact.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, but my mind still struggles to accept the reality of her death. It's as if my brain is refusing to process the information, leaving me in a state of suspended animation. I find myself thinking, "She's still here, she's still with us," only to be slapped with the harsh truth like a cold wave.

The past few weeks have been particularly agonizing. Memories of her flood my mind, and the weight of her absence crushes me. I relive our moments together, wondering what could have been if she were still here. The agony is palpable, a constant reminder of what I've lost.

Grief, I've come to realize, is a merciless companion. It doesn't care about the depth of our relationships or the expectations we had for the future. It swoops in, uninvited, and refuses to leave. It's a relentless force that demands to be felt, to be acknowledged, and to be understood.

It's hard to believe it's been almost a year since she left us. The pain still feels like yesterday, and I'm still grappling with the truth. But I know I must continue to face my grief, to work through the agony, and to find a way to heal. For her, for me, and for the memories we shared.