Loss

Have you ever missed someone?

Someone who has been in your life for so long that every day you are reminded of them, yet you know they are not coming back.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you clutches onto hope, but you know that is not possible.

I’m feeling entirely selfish, again.

I want; I crave; I need for them to come back, but not like this. Not in a time like this.

I haven’t ever truly experienced loss or grief.

Right now is the most amount of loss that I have had. And the reality of it is still so far away.

I see flashes of memories, smiles, and words. I see a family having dinner, opening presents, going biking. I remember it, like a scene from a favorite movie.

I see mornings drinking coffee.

I hear music echoing out as the father plays guitar and the rest of the family sings along.

I feel the excitement and intrigue of deep conversions that happen much into the night.

I remember the kindness and acceptance I was greeted with and felt every time I was there.

I was apart of the family.

Things have changed. And I know they are hurting. I can feel them hurting.

Maybe it is good that I am not there because that way I don’t have to be reminded of the pain of loss.

But I want to be there.

I want to be there with them.

I want to see them and support them and cry with them.

But I can’t. Not anymore.

And I know how selfish that is. So I will try and keep my distance now.

The pain is still there.

And I think that is why I want to write about it. Maybe so it is heard.

I have to go now.

There is more I want to say.