Grief

Sometimes suffering is suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger, it doesn’t build character. It only hurts. I do not want to come out of this grief that I have held dear to me since you passed away. I do not want to wake up one day and realize that I’m not grieving your departure. All I want is to learn how to live with the knowledge of your absence, how to live knowing that I’m forgetting your face now. I want to learn how to not let that break me apart.

I want to tell stories about you to everyone I know. I want to tell them how you made me believe in myself and how you made everyone around you laugh with just a sentence. I want everyone to remember how you could talk and talk about anything under the sun, and how comforting it was to see your face whenever life treated me a little too hard. I want to scream to a void how much I miss you and how much I regret not hugging you enough when I had the time. But how can I, when the mere thought of you makes me gasp for air? So for now, I keep all these things safe in my heart, and hope for the day when I have enough strength to let your memories wipe the tears off my face.

Maybe in time I will learn that grief is not the monster I thought it was. Maybe I’ll see that grief is just love. Unexpressed, trapped love. Maybe I’ll learn how to give that love to those who still need it, and maybe I’ll get some more in return. Maybe I’ll learn that I won’t break if I give in to the grief. And then, maybe I will learn how to accept my grief, invite her in as an old friend, and together we’ll keep your memory alive and loud.