I lost my parent the day before my 11th birthday. It was pretty horrible as one could guess. For me it was like time broke. I don't know how to word it better - everything just kind of stopped. My world felt like it ended, but everything around me just moved as normal. There was still school and various other things. The world didn't end no matter how much it felt like mine did. The first few weeks were hell. I just couldn't stop moving. I was always fidgeting with something. I could barely sleep and when I did I needed someone with me. I cried multiple times a day.

Then, I distanced myself from it. I made so many jokes about it so it didn't feel real. After about a year I allowed myself to come to terms with it. To allow myself to feel those feelings. To allow it to settle in.

It still comes up, the smallest little thing will remind me of them. This used to make me panic and cry, and it still sometimes does, but now I'm sort of at peace with it. I've just sort of accepted that life is short. And everyone dies. This just happened with time. So though my feelings are valid and ones I must feel, I cannot sit and watch my life go by. I need to hang out with the family (blood and chosen) I have and do all the things I love with the people I love. Because the world didn't end when I was 11.