loss.. and life after
Sometimes I miss you so much it steals my breath. It makes my heart beat so hard that I swear people nearby can see it beating from my chest. I once compared grief to spilling cold soup in your lap. You feel like you can’t fix it, can’t change it, and can’t just walk away. Some grief is that way. But this, this is the kind of pain that picks at your bones relentlessly. You can feel it stealing away who you are inside just a little more every day as you try to pretend you are entirely fine.
Fine. Fine.
There is no such thing as ever being O.K again when you house this kind of pain inside of you. The pain you cannot escape from because even when you sleep it sneaks up on you and whispers in your ear.
Loss.
the pain of loss
The pain that settles in your bones when your heart is missing an integral piece that makes up the person you are.
You never feel whole again from that moment.
It’s always there.
Sometimes though you let it boil over, like an overinflated balloon. It screams to be let out, loosened, set fee.
The tears spill to the surface, they spill over your face like rain a summer storm and wash away any hope you had of ever feeling normal again.
Sometimes in those moments you allow yourself to see what could have, should have, or might have become, if only…
if only…
Haunting thoughts and words for anyone that has ever suffered loss.
If only I..
my thoughts began and that was enough to open flood gates I wasn’t able to contain the rush I had been trying to protecting myself against. I was blindsided.
Grief does that sometimes. It hits you like a freight train out of nowhere and there isn’t a thing you can do to save yourself.
August is hard.
because I miss you and who you might have been.
I was standing there raw in my grief, as if it hadn’t been 19 years. As if It was a fresh wound still pouring forth blood and rage and fear.
In some ways it is always fresh. You don’t breath a moment without loss reminding you it there. It may not bubble to the surface frequently but it is always there, just waiting for the wound to open and bleed hot, fresh, and viscous over everything surrounding you.
I have always been embarrassed by my grief for you. I am sorry for that.
I carry the burden of you alone.
if only. ( there it is again )
I am embarrassed by all of the pain this body and heart holds. It isn’t just you.
I have run from the grief many times, wrapping myself in a blanket of logic and excuse. I tried to run from it this time, but you know me too well.
I tripped.
Literally, tripped.
I caught myself and looked to find what had tripped me intending to pick it up and throw it into the ocean for daring to stop me. What I saw stole all the air from my lungs. You …
the reminders I see when I miss you the most.
a single heart.
sometimes you surprise me in a flower petal, or a misshapen cookie, a cloud, or a spill. Reminding me that you are still in heaven waiting… you got the better end of the deal my love. If you ask me.
and there you were.
I may have never been able to hug you, but in moments like these I am sure you are hugging me
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