Description
They say when a person we love dies, the living affected by that person, dies with them. I'm not sure how that's possible, if we can't be with them physically. It hurts to know that the person you saw everyday, the person you talked to every now and then, the person you called your friend, is gone. Buried 6 ft underground, inside a box, and surrounded by dirt. Seeing them every Sunday, placing flowers on their grave, and talking to them, isn't the same as communicating with them face to face...but at least you feel secure when you do it. It's something that helps you recover a bit, and helps you feel better. But it isn't the same when you're going home, and that pain starts to swell up in your chest, and the sadness fills your head; just knowing that you can't be able to see them...just makes matters worse.
Prologue
