This is the one emotion that always makes me question if I have bpd. I don’t feel anything. I found out today that one of my friends from school died in a car accident yesterday. I haven’t cried. It’s still surreal. I had 4 friends through school who I stayed close with and maintained a relationship with. My FP, this person, and 2 others. Now he’s dead. I’m waiting for the wave of grief to come over me, I’m waiting for the moment I spend crippled on my bathroom floor in tears. I’m waiting for the rage. I know it’s coming. But the reality hasn’t set in. He was such an amazing soul. He had never once said anything bad about anyone. He would’ve given anyone the shirt off his back, even if they wronged him. He wasn’t even at fault when it happened. The people in the vehicle who hit him were fine, he died, his passengers have severe injuries. I’m laying in bed now with my face buried in one of my FP’s shirts because inhaling his smell seems to be the only thing keeping in reality. I want him to come see me but I don’t want to ask him to. I don’t want to seem needy, he gets off work any minute now. I think I need to cry, or do something, but I can’t. I want to hurt myself, maybe it’ll help. But I haven’t because I know that’s not a healthy way to make myself feel. But I’m numb. I feel nothing. One of my dearest, and only true, friends died. They’re gone forever. I haven’t seen him since before I moved away 5 years ago, but now that I’m back home I’ve wanted to. Now I never will. Fuck. I need life to stop slapping me in the fucking face.