It has been a month since I lost my mom. I barely sleep because I dream about her being alive and every morning I wake up I remember it was a dream and every hour I realize how permanent death really is. It feels wrong that the world is going the same as it has always gone. Everyone I know who still have their mothers telling me I'll be fine rings hollow, I feel like they're telling me the right cliche things while actually waiting for me to get over it. I feel bad for them in a way because they'll know what I'm going through one day.