right now

nights were the worst, really.

during the days he was numb. when awake his mind was able to build barriers against the pain, close the gates of the walls enclosing his sanity and stop the grief from crushing in with all its force. it was a simple but arduous task, getting through a day - the act of breathing had never required so much conscious effort before - and it managed to keep him busy. he didn't think about G, didn't go through the events leading to his death; didn't allow his mind to wrap around the fact that he was not anymore. the knowledge was there of course, H did see the empty rooms and heard the deafening silence that occupied them now; but during the days, he was able to look the other way.

but nights, they were different.

when he slept his conscious mind gave in to the unconscious, yielded before what had happened and what that meant. it barged into his dreams, loud and rude and as impossible to ignore as a high speed train barging onwards when you are standing on its tracks, paralysed and panicked like a deer in headlights. and night after night it hit him with a force that swept him off his feet, overwhelmed his dreams and visions and left him shattered; just as shattered as he had been when G had fell.

every night H was there, and every night it happened; he was never able to stop it. G always fell, always always always; he always fell and he always hit the ground with the same, sickening thump that made H's stomach turn.

he always died.

and every time it felt as if it had been the first time; it never got any easier. in his sleep H had no way of stopping it from happening, witnessing the single most devastating incident of his whole life, and every morning when he woke up he couldn't tell which hurt more, his heart or his soul.

he knew, of course, somewhere in the back of his head that eventually he would have to admit to himself also during the daylight hours that G was dead; that even if he would sit in the living room of their home and stare at the door until his eyes went blind, it would not open and bring G back.

but right now it was too early. right now getting through the days that followed each other, each similar to the one before and to the one after, was really all he was able to deal with.

right now it was OK just to sit and not think.