I crunch glass beneath the soles of my feet , the stinging briefly bringing me out of my agony .
Dimly aware of the broken windows and strong winds that make the curtains fly ominously I continue further in the house ,screaming his name for what feels like the hundredth time, trying and failing to keep the grief from my voice.
“Dean” … Dean? I don’t know a Dean – I know you’re not a ‘Dean’ –
But the mere thought of living in a world without him fills me with dread .
Some small rational part of me wonders at who the hell he is , the larger more overpowering part searches frantically.
Somehow I know my search is futile . But I won’t..can’t stop screaming his name .
My throat feels dry , my voice sounding strange even to my own ears , sounding raw and hopeless. Why can’t I find him? ..I need to find you
…I need ..what do I need ?
“Dean” I whisper –because I know no other name for you – falling to my knees ,glass embedding itself in my exposed skin .
Sobbing uncontrollably I let out a final scream of incoherent pain .
Muffled footsteps make it’s way towards me and strong arms wrap around my shattered pieces holding them together .
Why does it hurt so much ?
I briefly fight the embrace but my strength wears out ..he’s dead I know it .
My heart knows it ….our connection knows it .. Our connection?,what connection?
…
Who the hell are you why do I feel the loss of your presence so immensely??
IFwrites 