Grief: Oxymoronic

How can one feel so much, and yet feel so little?

I feel such a depth of pain over the loss of Wilder, and yet am numb to everything around me. I care not for the entertainment of the world, or for their mindless nonsense. All that matters is Wilder and my missing of him. Such a depth of feeling and yet such apathy. Can empathy and apathy truly live together in one being? I am black and white, hot and cold, an oxymoron of a person. Overflowing and yet empty.