Time heals all wounds. It might be a bit arogant to state that, since some wounds can be so severe that they will haunt and torment people the rest of their lives, whether mental or physical. A better version of the saying might be: time lessens the pain.
I'm home, at my parents place, visiting them for the holidays. I'm sitting in my old room, like I did this summer when I learned that my best friend and in many ways, though not romantic, companion, had died. It brings back memories of when I felt numb inside, then intense sadness and pain, then anger. I have no idea whether that is according to the stages of grief as they are often described, but it was how I felt it. Now I've recovered, somewhat. There is still a gaping hole in my life where my friend use to be. Where we talked every day, there is silence and loneliness now. When I play online, it's on my own. It's always on my own now and it's hard. I'm trying to figure out how to meet other people, but as much as I hate to say it, I'm no longer young. It seemed so much easier to meet people when I was young. How do I find people to play with, people that I can actually stand?
So have I recovered a bit? Like, really? I think I have. When I think of Melanie, I still feel sad, but I can also smile when I think about the fun we had, or about her snarky reply to something we heard. I miss her so much. But it's not nearly as painful to remember her anymore. Time do lessen the pain, slowly. The main question now is how do I moved on from here? I guess time will tell...