It was surprisingly sunny for such a sad day.
Watching the casket get lowered into the ground seemed to be everyone's favorite pastime at the moment, but I couldn't look at it. I couldn't at them. They made jokes about when she was alive, but I couldn't laugh at them. I couldn't laugh about this piece of me that is now gone and will be forever. I couldn't handle how light-hearted they were all being about this. I felt like the only person who actually cared about her lack of life. Was I the only person who loved her? They comforted me, but I didn't want or need their sympathy. I wanted them to be as upset as I was.
Am I the only person who cries themselves to sleep every night? Am I the only person grieving? Am I the only person who keeps her old clothes in the back of my closet so that when I miss her I can imagine that she's in the kitchen frying fish or in the front yard pulling weeds? Am I the only person, after all these years, who still remembers her like it was yesterday?
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Pain
Paris Jackson