I notice that a protective mechanism in me is to downplay everything. Something bad, isn't that bad, something good, isn't that good.
It makes me feel inhuman, in a negative way.
I want to ask her on a date
I want to ask her about her favorite movie, or series, anime, or what her love language is. I miss her. There's an underlying feeling that she's going to lead to heartbreak, but she's beautiful, and kind. Maybe heartbreak is worth facing for her.
No matter how much I don't want to exist, there's no way in hell I'd give my mother the satisfaction. And sometimes spite is the last thing that keeps you going.
Things just don't seem as important now. I wish this didn't have to be your ending chapter. The realization that I'll never see you again, never joke with you again, slowly settles into being the new reality.