Stop All The Clocks

Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's never mine.

Author's Note: Just a little angsty drabble that I couldn't get rid of from my head. this is inspired by, amongst other things, the poem 'Funeral Blues' by W H Auden which I of course lay no claim to owning but merely love very much.

It feels like everyone should stop, that the entire universe should be silent even if only for a moment. It never gets easier. You would think it would, after all this time, that you would become used to it- numbed almost. After all the pain and loss and suffering you would think I would be used to it by now but every time, every single time, it surprises me. It hurts so much now she's gone. There are tearsI don't let fall and screams of anger I don't let escape my mouth. It still doesn't feel real, even though I always knew it was coming. Counting down the days and watching as she gradually slipped away. Away from me.

It doesn't matter. None of it. Not to them, not to everyone else. The most brilliant woman I ever knew is gone and no-one cares. No one misses her, no one cries. It's only me. It's always only me. Walking along the streets and people laugh and joke as if nothing's happened. The world should have stopped, surely? They should be whispering instead of talking, clothed in black. Nothing should make any sense now she's gone but it does, to them, it really does. To me laughter sounds so hollow and it feels that nothing will ever be real again. Now she's gone.

I can't make the universe, or even the world, stop. They all carry on living, laughing and loving even though she's gone. Nothing should matter, no life should prosper but it does. It does. And so I do. I laugh and make jokes and wear stupid hats just to distract myself from the pain, to try to believe I am one of those people who lives without this pain coursing through them. Everyone I've lost, they are here with me every single day. And now there's her. And I remember it all, every second of them I've lost. No one else notices that they have gone, that she's gone. And I live on, as ever, I live on in an eternity of beings who have no idea of the wonderful things they're missing and the people they should be mourning.

I live and I laugh and I pretend I'm the same as them but nothing is the same. Nothing can be beautiful, no light can burn as brightly, no smile can warm me the way hers did. Now she's gone everything seems duller. I carry on and I never look back because that's what I have to do, what I feel I should do, but without her nothing can ever come to any good.

Please review if you have a moment.