Have you ever loved someone who is dead? Someone who is walking and talking, but dead? You can feel them, touch their collarbones; hear them laugh.
But, they’re just dead. And they haunt you, and they never leave you. They only give you memories. You can’t help that they are dead. You simply can’t help them because they didn’t even choose to be dead.
You try to bury them so with written words, but they keep unearthing themselves when
you’re alone. Whether you are brushing your teeth, reading a book, or walking down the street the dead will follow you.
And you start to wonder if things would be different if they were alive. But you shouldn’t because you can’t do anything about it.