Mum messaged me this afternoon telling me how she couldn’t stop crying because she missed him. For forty-five minutes on my bus this morning, I couldn’t stop crying because of how much I missed him. I cried again then because of how much I missed her. I couldn’t stop crying because for the first time in a long time I felt lonely. And like every other year since 2008, I was back in the ICU lost and alone.
I don’t want to be just an option for people to swipe yes or no to. But being wanted felt bloody damn good, and no, it’s not the solution but it feels like a step towards finding the solution.
Heartbreak can be as liberating as it is painful. For the most part, I am okay because I have been distracted. It begins to get tough when I am alone and staring at silence storm its fist at me.
I should have known better than to chase something that seemed like a fantasy, but I wandered into the choppy waters anyway, unprepared. I sought something I thought I deserved but in truth, it wasn’t mine to begin with.
He was coming back after so long. It didn’t make sense, even in the dream. We were used to him being away for nine months, but nine years?
It was only just a dream.
Grief has a way of taking over your life that shakes your core and leaves you bare. I am 24 and have experienced most of these situations. Too young? Too soon? Why me?