Even When I Close My Eyes

It always hurts.

That monster of emotion always ready to devour …. can’t ever get away from it.

It finds you in the abyss, even when you’re lost yourself.

It sucks the life out of you ever-so-slowly.

It takes the energy from you, draining your life’s blood.

It is madness; manifested from mind to real life.

An ocean of distance isn’t enough.

Even when I close my eyes and try to escape it, the darkness of it all clouds my memory. In my mind it almost looks like Polaroid’s being taken too quickly and being thrown to the floor. They come too fast to catch and handle. They land on top of each other, distorted.

Everything is upside down.

This rocked our entire universe and drives me within an inch of the edge more often than I could ever admit. I can’t count how many times I have said, “I just can’t do this anymore.”

Nobody really understands.

Nobody really knows what this feels like.

Nobody knows what it feels like to be betrayed by neighbors/friends, and stabbed in the back by childless strangers.

Nobody but us.

Now the question is, when will my niece know?…..

 

 

 

 

Like Walking Through A Field Of Dandelions ….

Trying to find the words when I am at a loss for them …. These are all I can find ….

Happy Twelfth Birthday, sweet baby girl.

I remember when you were two, walking hand in hand with me.

We are still auntie and niece, and nothing and no one can ever take that from us.

We, your family, love you ever-so-dearly.

I hope with all my heart, and all of my belief and faith in God, that one day we will again walk side by side together, the feeling of a dream, like walking through a field of dandelions ….

 

Because, It Just Hurts So Bad.

The ups, downs, and all arounds of these emotions has been a beast. 

Surviving it has been exhausting, confusing, infuriating; although I don’t in which order.

It’s hard to feel good, or even accept the goodness that is coming my way.

I smile, then I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel bad, for feeling good, and that in itself is a whole other big thing. Something else I don’t understand, and wouldn’t want to if I did.

I laugh, then my memory gets triggered, and I cry until my eyes get swollen. I didn’t know you could cry so much that your eyes literally get so puffy and red that all you want to do is put a cold washcloth over them as you collapse into your protector’s arms.

I’m a writer, and I haven’t been able to write.

I’m a lover, and I haven’t been able to love.

I (  and all of us ) have been utterly consumed and paralyzed by this grief, this sadness, this need for answers, this hope for justice.

I haven’t written much at all lately ( a first for me ) because I can’t.

I can barely put two thoughts together, never mind trying to covey the deepest sorrow of my being from feeling to paper.