broken heart

nine

I can't help but feel sad for him.

...

The Next Friday

Adding the last swipe of lip gloss I heard, "Elle, you ready?"

"Coming!" I yelled, grabbing my keys, phone and purse.

I jogged down the stairs, "Ready" I laughed.

"Finally" Harry laughed back, "The uber is outside lets go"

...

We arrived at the location after about ten minutes.

The last time I attended a funeral was, never. I've never actually dealt with this much grief before.

Dark, black outfits, flowers, the music, the church.

It's all starting to hit me, he really is dead.

Freddy walked over to me, "Hey Elle, Hey Harry" 

"Hey Freddy, it's good to see you" I said hugging him.

"The doors are gonna be opening in about five minutes" Freddy said glancing at his watch.

"Okay, see you in there" Harry smiled.

Freddy walked off into the distance and Harry turned me to face him, "Hey, you okay?" 

"No" I sighed, "But I'll manage" I awkwardly laughed.

"Come here" Harry laughed, pulling me in for a hug.

"I love you" I smiled.

"I know you do" He laughed.

If only he knew.

...

I wish I could just stand tall and unbothered during his wake, but that's just not possible.

As the funeral goes on, tears and tears carry on streaming down my face. 

The mascara I had applied a few hours ago was now a mess, even though it was waterproof.

Even Harry was crying, I buried my head into is chest. Broken Heart.

He whispered "You'll be okay" with pain in his eyes.

I looked up at him with ease, "I know"

...

It's over. He's gone. 

"I'm sorry for your loss, Elle" Freddy smiles in sympathy.

"You too Freddy" I smiled as I hugged him.

"Are you coming to the after party later?" Freddy smiled.

"I don't know, I think I'm still processing" I slightly laughed.

"That's okay, I understand" Freddy laughed. 

"See you" I smiled. 

Harry walked over, "Let's go home, take a break, you don't have to go to the party" 

"Yeah okay" I laughed.

... 

Sitting on my bed, alone, shattered, empty.

The bed we used to laugh in until we couldn't breathe. 

The bed we used to have deep talks on. 

The bed we sat on when he would help me write lyrics.

Maybe this is why it makes it so painful, he was the best friend I could ever ask for.