Grief. Grief is weird… that’s what you’ve been telling yourself when you cry and laugh right after… or when dropping a piece of food is enough reason to break plates and consider ending it all.

Grief if weird… but not having your mom is weirder.

You were sitting on the chair, looking at the wall because looking at her casket isn’t the better option… Johnny sat next to you, his own eyes teary…

Unlike you, Johnny and your brother Gerard couldn’t stop staring at the casket. It’s like when you see a wreck… you don’t want to look, but you just can’t stop..

Johnny has been Gibsies best friend since they were 4, so he has known your mom for ages too.. No wonder he’s this broken as well

It all was fine tho. You were managing to keep your eyes off of her unmoving, pale frame. You had counted the imperfections on the wall over 400 times by now… But it’s due to a little butterfly flying in front of your face that it all crumbles

You follow her with your eyes and the little fucker decides to land right on mom’s forehead…

No damnit. Get off of her. You snap as you rush to the casket to swat away the damn thing, but whoever heard you speak that way would think this was 10x worse than what it is, but, when mom was alive, she was scared of butterflies.. The family always made fun of her… so this? This is just a cruel coincidence