my world is dead and they all can’t wait for the funeral to be over

Monday, 14th of July 2025, 10:52 - 11:56

I feel like I’m the only one grieving.

Everybody else is just waiting for it to be over. For me to leave, so they can carry on as normal. I’m the only one dressed in black; everybody else is wearing either their usual clothes, or new clothes, for a new life.

They’re not waiting to move on; they’ve already moved on to better things in their heads. I’m just in the way. An obstacle to them being somewhere else and doing something else. My presence has no meaning of its own, it serves only as the begrudged cause of his absence. My absence will be welcomed as the joyous continuation of his presence.

I am a ghost; an unwelcome houseguest. But I’m frozen in place. Caught somewhere between already dead and still in my death throes. Between grief and acceptance. I have accepted only that this is real, that this is happening, and that I must deal with it alone somehow. That doesn’t bring me any solace.

Candles are not lit to mourn my passing, only to commemorate the beginnings of a future that I won’t be in. They ‘grieve’ out of duty, not of sincerity. And the cost of feeling forced to do something out of duty is, in this case, barely-constrained resentment. Really, they can’t wait for it to be over so they can do something else.