“There are two kinds of grief,” I finally tell her. “There’s the grief of having something and losing it, but then there’s the grief of never having it at all.”
It’s a certain kind of loneliness to be void of anything, to have no memories or comforts to fall back on, no good times to cling to among the bad. To have your entire life just be erased.
Who you were, who you could’ve been, gone in an instant.