I'm about to lose you.
To something that is neither of our faults.
While I know you still care for me,
We'll probably never see each other again.
We're each following our dreams,
and that means being apart.

I try to be normal.
But in this state,
I'm either hyper-aware
of everyone's shallow
material
preoccupations
that keep them from being sick with love
and grief
like me.

Or
it's just this horrible,
horrible,
darkness inside
that is so strong
I tear up all the time
or if I don't tear up
I'm about to throw up.

Why is it so hard?
Later I'll appreciate the gifts you gave me
but it seems that as soon as they were here, they'll be gone.
And I'll forget them.
Hopefully not along with you.