The grief of You
-and the last letter you’ll get.
--
(Do you deserve it? No. But this is for all the life I cannot see and all the love I cannot feel)
I am in Denial.
Refusing to see the obvious and coming up with ludicrous stories. To justify & understand, I lie. Only to myself.
The truth is there for all to see. All but me.
I feel Anger.
Mostly towards myself. For falling there. Also, towards you. For being. For not being. For gatekeeping this story and for refusing to be.
I am Bargaining.
Maybe if I ask for less, if I give up everything that once were, if I settle & accept this new reality…maybe I could feel the joy of us again.
Maybe if I needed less and less and less, I could trick my mind into being grateful for the now.
I am Depressed.
Only, I am not. I have not skipped it, nor was I spared. For I went there, and I was sad and I was lonely and I felt like I’ve lost something. I really did.
But now?
Now I am amazed and I am shinny and I am blooming and the coffee tastes great and the sun is up and I am me, so, so me and I just can’t bring myself to be sad.
I accept.
Only, I don’t. I am hoping. And I’m not delusional, I am not, I am not, I am not.
The only constant in this story was the return. I saw the constant of feeling like I’ve lost, I went through breaks and withdrawals, I cried salty water and never thought things could ever be the same again.
And yet-yet-yet, things always went back to what they were, the same everything, over and over again.
So, here I hope and there I wait, knowing what I didn’t know before — no matter what, no matter how, no matter when —
I. Will. Be. Fine.
