The intensity of numbness hits me as I leave you, my loved one, behind forever. Feeling isolated and abandoned, departing with nothing but the reminiscence of what life you may have had to live, I seem to be on a treadmill; continually running from my problem, but never getting anywhere. Eventually having to face the road of recovery leaves me feeling inferior, powerless. I think back in disbelief, mentally torturing myself, acting as though I am the detective, scrutinising my every move in a frustrated fashion, in the hope that my loss is to be justified. How can it be that it was God’s choice, why would He wish to cause me grief, sitting proud, looking down at me and laughing until He is blue in the face.
Expectations are never entirely fulfilled, but after my hard work at caring for another I have nothing to show, no prize at the end of my contest. How is it that others succeed effortlessly, some without even wanting the treasure, and yet I leave empty handed and drained of all future hope, my dreams engulfed like driftwood by an overpowering, ferocious ocean, resting on the sea’s deathbed.,
In faith I believe I am still pregnant, I deny that I have lost my child in an instant, deny that I grief over a memory so fresh, deny that I have indeed lost a piece of heart pulled from out of my chest. Instead I act as though I am an onlooker- peering through a window into another’s life, discarding all my worries and placing them upon the head of the other in my window of disbelief and denial. Imagining how the other will make it through this time of heartache begins to soothe me and I find comfort and reassurance through my window, the barrier between my two worlds.
Neglected and unaided to adjust to society I find my self hurt by the ignorance of others causing me unintentional pain whilst some cruel hater plays God with a voodoo doll with my name on it. Suffocating on the truth and the realisation, harmony seems to be in another lifetime much like you, my child. Grasping my wellbeing and releasing my anguish I recognise that I have no where to run, no one to turn to. How am I to find comfort when there is no one to provide it? When I have lost something so precious how am I to seek contentment in something so insignificant? Facing condolences seems unnecessary when you are still with me in my heart and in my soul, giving me strength in my hardest hour, but I know I am never to see you, hear you cry, watch you grow old. Constantly reminded by friends that I can try again, told to forget about my loss and think about my future gain, why is it that no one understands that it was only you that I wanted.
There is no easy way to let you rest, to let my broken heart mend, to let me find security as the days and weeks elapse, and every time I fall asleep, every time I awake to the thought of your smile, I know that time does not heal, but it does provide distance from my loss.
