My gramma stopped living for twenty years after my Uncle Charlie died. She briefly woke up when my dad died just to realize she had wasted so much time. She's back to simply waiting to die; which is a greater tragedy than death itself.
She isn't the only one. Even I stopped living for a time after losing different people who meant the world to me. I've known other who have done the same.
It's a terrible waste of a gift.
This is kind of a downer post. Write your own fucking blog if you want sunshine and unicorns all the time.
My morning just got horrible. I have no coffee in this house. Fuck.