There was glass all above me, the runny eye of the sun in the sky as it got tinier and tinier. I beat my fists against it, just like the ice that had healed itself above me again, and with that, I couldnt push through. The water I was submerged in was cold, ice cold, and it sucked at me all at once. Cold, like a frostbite, like a brainfreeze. I was so numb, I stopped shivering.

The water entered my nose and mouth. I couldnt breathe. As I closed my eyes, I curled my fists around the things that I knew:
That someone out there cared.
That you were special to someone.
This time, I wasnt the only one who broke.


I knew it from that very moment. That I should have gone with you to the frozen pond. That you had been deprived of ice for so long that it was natural for you to creep onto the ice although I told you not to. That the ice was way too thin to support your weight. It shattered, like a spider's web, and there you were, trapped in the middle, unable to escape. For a long time, I could only see you sinking. I pictured you, your hair, streaming out, like a mermaids, and your soft brown eyes staring lifelessly out of the coffin where I last bade you goodbye. You were my life to me, and you've never left me since.
Life's unfair. That's true. But here's what i've realised after your death:
That when you think you're right, you're most likely wrong.
That objects that get broken- be it hearts, promises - will never be healed whole.
That you can miss a person you've never known.