Have any of you ever felt the weight of an empty shell?
I was 24 the first time a friend of mine died.
I was 24 the first time I helped carry the coffin of my dead friend.
I know something inside of me broke when I held part of her emptiness. The weight of broken dreams. A shell anchored forever by a wish list. That shell holding moment haunts me.
I hope that’s the heaviest pain I ever have to carry.