What You Feel

They say that, when you witness the death or experience the death of a close friend, everything slows down. Like one of those scenes in a movie. They are wrong. The world keeps on moving. Chugging right along, because one man, or two, are too small for the world to care. And you? You don't feel anger, or sadness or grief or pain, you don't feel anything. You're just empty. Like you're hollow. As if somebody gutted you, and you're sitting there, your empty body staying alive, and your brain can't process your loss. In that moment of realization, that horrible moment. You aren't alive. You're just existing. And that emptiness, that numbness, is strangely the most painful feeling I have ever experienced.