You can decorate absence however you want - but you’re still gonna feel what’s missing.
Whenever someone who knows you disappears, you lose one version of yourself. Yourself as you were seen, as you were judged to be. Lover or enemy, hater or friend, those who know us, construct us, and their several knowings slant the different facets of our characters like diamond-cutter’s tools. Each such loss is a step leading to the end, where all versions blend.