Some bit of hope, some bit of peace,
some bit of closure, something good.
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There's a thing we say when someone dies. We say it to their family, to their friends, to anyone they loved and anyone that loved them. We say I'm sorry for your loss. It's a pat little phrase, and an empty one. It doesn't begin to cover what's actually happening to them. It does not take into account that their lives shall be different - inherently void of what once was, and forever changed because of what never will be again. The phrase lets us empathise without forcing us to feel their devastation ourselves. It protects us from feeling that pain, even though their pain demands to be felt, for it is the kind that is dark, seeking, relentless - the kind that can eat you alive. Each death takes a part of you, until you die yourself. And while we may find solace, there is no real way to forget, no true way to move on, no plausible means to accept that death is here, that death is all there is.
