.

"I laugh because I will cry if I dont."

The marvelous words of Hedwig Robinson have never resonated with me more than now.

I sit in our apartment; if I can even call it that anymore, and laugh. Thats all I really can do.

I cant go to work: its too soon, you should go home and rest, theyd say. Theyd look at me with sympathy and arrogant pity. As if they know what its like to be me, to be where I am right now. I cant go out: Blaine, over here! How are you feeling? Why havent you said anything yet? As if flashing cameras werent enough, yelling in my face would make it better.

All I can do is laugh.

Crying isnt an option. I dont cry. I havent for 5 months now. When I saw it all coming to a head; and end, I closed off. Id been through this before; sort of. There were times when I thought it would end. There were times when I hoped it would end. But then Id wake up and see him lying there next to me and know that no matter the pain, the misery, I would go through hell and back for this man.

I always thought hell was this delusional place where demons and fire would eat at you; gnaw at your flesh and bone. All you ever feel was physical pain. But you wouldnt die. Youre already dead. You might faint for a minute, get a few seconds of relief. But then youd wake up; you always wake up, and would go through it all over again. The psychology of you would forever be ruined. There would be no end. This was you for the rest of eternity.

No. My hell was nothing like that. My hell was alone, broken, and very much alive. Its very personal though. As if whatever deity up there was angry and they wanted me to suffer. So they got a knife and shoved it into my eyeball. Every few hours theyd push a little further, all the while lacerating every inch of my body with pins; like Im some fucking plaything.

Laughing doesnt necessarily relieve the pain. Its more so a reminder that he was here. He once laid in my arms; breathing, smiling and living.

It isnt fair. Im sure everyone whos lost someone they adore can say that.

It isnt fair that Im here and he isnt. Im nothing special. I sings songs. I pretend like I can take care of people; like I can take care of myself, but in reality, Im nothing at all without him. Im just a vessel for someone to handle. It isnt fair that someone like me is alive and he isnt.

Kurt isnt alive.

I think it. Sometimes I say it out loud but no tears come, only laughter. I feel the pain. I always feel the pain. I feel it to the point where Im numb. Some call it depression but I call it reality.

This is my reality. Living in this world without him. Being forced to a life of emptiness. Im sure Ill move on and find someone whom I feel I can care for but it wouldnt be the same. Itd almost be an insult to love. Kurt was my person, my Soulmate. I would never be able to love someone that way, and I honestly dont want to.

I dont know what to do. Living seems like a foreign subject to me now; a vague lifestyle in another world all together, and I dont know how to get there.

So I laugh. I sit and I laugh.