Friday, August 12, 2011

Letting It All Out... Bear With Me

I'm just so tired of it. So damn tired of missing you. Tired of noticing you aren't here. Tired of wishing for a different reality. Too tired. Tired of feeling helpless about you. Tired of not getting to spend any time with you. Tired of imagining what it would be like if you were here. Tired to tears. Tired of tired.

You are always with me. Maybe people think that sounds romantic and they probably feel happy for me that I see things that way, but it's not romantic at all. It's burdensome. This heavy heart I carry daily, is slowly sinking me.  And it's exhausting to keep your memory constantly turning in my mind just so I don't lose it altogether.

And what kind of memories with you, are we left with anyways?!?!?  Just a few hours of you sleeping lifelessly in our arms. A tiny little darling trapped in a failed body, covered in death. These memories, as precious as they are to me, are only preserved with a smile because they are all I have. "At least", I tell myself, "you were in our arms at all".  At least I saw your tiny (not so tiny) feet and that they were just like your daddy's. That you had long legs like your mommy. That your hair was growing fast. That your little rosebud ears were so pefectly kissable. Your slender fingers begged for my touch, but they did not grip me back when I gently pressed against your palm. Your poor little face... oh, baby, your poor little face. Your eyes would not close all the way and they were so black and empty. I wish I had pictures to share. I wish we didn't have to ask for a picture with you that didn't actually show the death that was all over you. BUT, you are beautiful in my memories. More beautiful by the day.

I haven't cried for you in a little while, and I hoped I had kicked that habit. But tonight, I'm just a shell of my usual self, drowning in tears, and more broken than ever. It feels like the end of me.

My baby is dead. There is no hope in that. She always will be, and it will never change. As awful as that is to write, it's even harder to live. My family is forever minus one in the most unnatural of ways.

My thoughts are all jumbled up. I can't think straight no matter how hard I try. I can't remember shit from day-to-day. I can't put a decent paragraph together without forgetting what I was talking about in the first place. I'm stuck in a time warp, bouncing back and forth between then and now.

How is the rest of my life supposed to be? Please let it get better. Please don't leave me here like this. Please let something wonderful happen to take my mind off how miserable this part has been. Even if just for a little while. I can only hold on bravely for so long, and I'm afraid the sun won't come back out and shine before I'm completely broken in half.

Did I tell you how tired I am of missing you?


Anonymous said...

I know exactly how you feel friend. I hope that in writing, you are able to let go of some of the emptiness. Move forward and write about other things.

If I may, my only advice is focus on the present (sounds lame I know.) Stay away from the past and keep the future a mystery. I lost two years of my life because I was trying to push life ahead of me.

You're doing it, you're living it and I am so proud to be following your journey.

Always here for you!

Unknown said...

cheers to that - with a big fat screwdriver. The bad days are better, but the good days are still not as good as they once were. It's just a matter of finding a new equilibrium in happiness.

Thanks for following... and commenting! :-)