Grief comes home like the mistress nobody ever asked for. She takes you away from me, makes you feel isolated and alone. Nevertheless, she still makes you feel like she is the only one who has truly ever loved you. Is it really love though? Here one minute and then boom, gone.
I am afraid of not having the right words to say or the warmest hug. I am afraid I will lose more than just that one person this world has already lost.
I can’t seem to fathom how my mere existence is going to help yours, but here I am, wearing my heart on my sleeve ready for you to rip it apart.
Anything for you, my love.
Everything doesn’t happen for a reason and god doesn’t always have a plan. I have come to understand this well just by looking at the shards of glass lying on our plush bedroom carpet belonging to your beloved vase which came flying across the room straight out of your tiny trembling hands.
I have read enough books and witnessed enough people making mistakes to know, never to ask you to move on. Even if I hadn’t, I would simply never imagine to be someone that imperceptive.
There is no such thing as moving on from, our biggest barrier, your little mistress. It is a lie. I refuse to be ignorant enough to believe anybody could move on from this. Forgive me, on behalf of all these people who make it look like you’re incompetent to move on. It is simply not possible. Just forgive me, my love.
Tell me, how can I possibly put an end to this madness? How can I possibly help you soar through this and rise like a phoenix from the ashes? How can I possibly make you believe in this god awful world again?
I promise you, you will make it one day. You will see flowers and not think of them withering in the cold but appreciate them for blooming in the warmth of the sun.
Until then, here I am, cleaning the shards of glass so that your sweet feet can feel luxury again; still carrying my heart on my sleeve.
Whenever you’re ready, my love.
* * *
When I think of grief, I think of fear; fear of this intense pain never actually leaving me physically or mentally. I don’t think of tear stained pillows or lilies , I think of my heart exploding into a million pieces and me breathing. Barely breathing, but still breathing.
If you feel anything like this, I don’t know what I can possibly say to lessen your pain. I don’t know if there will ever be a time when anyone knows the exact things to say or do but I promise you, I am trying.
Grief is not love that has no place to go, it is a passage. It is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of will.
I know you are feeling the worst kind of pain and I won’t ask you to stop feeling it. I won’t ask you to suck it up and plaster a smile on your face.
I will ask you to embrace it.
I will ask you to hold on.
The sun will shine again for you.
There are no rules or time frames, do it at your own pace for however long you like.
If you ever feel tired just look around and you’ll find people holding their hand out for you to grab.
There is no lie here, it is going to be a part of you forever. But this is not about trying to get rid of it, it is about learning to live with it.
It’s an alternation.
There will be a new you.
In the meantime, please don’t disappear.
-SHS
Fifty shades of what I feel. 