I’m just plain old sad. That no good feeling, low down, pit in my stomach sad.
I lost someone who meant a lot to me at the beginning of this summer.
You know what happened next?
I had to be a head counselor in a camp.
I went on a road trip with my sisters.
I’m back now.
Life is slowing down.
Which means reality is coming back into focus.
Now, i’m sad, and i’m even a little angry.
I never healed. I never got over it. I never recovered from the loss of my beloved grandfather.
I just simply got distracted. I had no time to be sad. I didn’t exactly have twenty extra minutes in my night to let the tears flow. There were always people around.
And I miss him so so badly.
He isn’t supposed to be gone.
My stomach hurts. My tears are hot.
There are lots of ways that you can lose people.
Death is the worst.
When a friendship or a relationship falls apart, it get’s easier with time. You know why? Because you care less.
With death, you never care less.
You just get distracted.
It’s life putting on a band aid, and then pulling it off.
Whenever you do it, it’s fresh and angry and evil. And it hurts. And it destroys everything in it’s path. And I have used the word and so many times in so many wrong places, but I don’t care.
Because I am sad.
I don’t want this pain to go away and get better. I want him back. I want it all to come back together, I want me to be whole again.
Being broken is all wrong. The worst is when you are broken, and missing pieces. Because then it makes it harder to build yourself back together. So you don’t.
You just push off the project. You put a “Coming Soon!” sign out and you cry yourself to sleep because it just hurts too much and the pain is too angry and it’s all wrong.
I don’t know.
There is no way to make sense of death.
It’s unfair for those left behind.
Life moves on, and you know what?
That’s the worst part.