Oct 2013
I will take this. I have to.
Even if it breaks me.
Even if it breaks me into a million pieces that nobody can put together again.
And it has.
It has broken me into so many fragmented pieces; I’m now what they refer to as
“damaged goods”
Something so traumatic, I’ll never be normal again.
Normal is a thing of the past.
This is what’s happening now.
Broken pieces.
Everywhere.
Every time I fix a piece, another breaks. I feel like I’m holding myself together with tape and glue and it’s not going to be enough. I don’t know what else to say, but it’s too much and it's not enough. All at the same time.
It’s like screaming without a voice.
They said there’d be waves.
They essentially promised.
They said that these waves of sadness would come and go. That happiness would slowly seep back in.
Weaving its way into the oscillating patterns of a heavy heart.
But there haven’t been any waves.
They were wrong.
Instead the pain is dull. It is constant.
But most of all, it’s there. It's there all the time.
The constant part is the worst. The only thing I could relate it to is fire.
It’s like somebody running through a fire has it easier. Sure they’ll get burned but the point is that they get to run through.
They get out.
This though? This is like getting caught in the fire and not making it through. This is like a permanent residency in my own personal hell and at some point I really need the fire to be put out; the pain to stop.
It has to. There’s only so much a girl can take. It’s like somebody has their dark hand engulfing my heart and they’re squeezing it every day and no matter how I plead, they’re refusing to let go.
It’s the greatest sadness I have ever known and it is depleting me emotionally and physically.
I. Am. Too. Weak.
Everybody keeps saying how strong I am. They have no idea. It’s like I’m the world’s greatest actress and I’ve fooled them all. All they see is somebody taking bad news well.
But nobody takes their entire earth shattering “well”.
And my earth has shattered. The death of my brother at the age of 21 has shattered me.
There’s not one thing I wouldn’t give to go back and hug him just a little longer at the airport three days before he died. It was just supposed to be his last semester at college. Not the end of a life time.
There are too many broken pieces. The jagged edges cut my hands. I can’t pick them up.
And so now all I can do is pray. With my forehead to the ground and my faith in God I will pray. Pray the pain away in hopes that one day, the happiness is real. And the tears stop.
In hopes that one day, I can go on without him.
So I’ll pray.
Even if it breaks me.
Even if it breaks me into a million pieces that nobody can put together again.
And it has.
It has broken me into so many fragmented pieces; I’m now what they refer to as
“damaged goods”
Something so traumatic, I’ll never be normal again.
Normal is a thing of the past.
This is what’s happening now.
Broken pieces.
Everywhere.
Every time I fix a piece, another breaks. I feel like I’m holding myself together with tape and glue and it’s not going to be enough. I don’t know what else to say, but it’s too much and it's not enough. All at the same time.
It’s like screaming without a voice.
They said there’d be waves.
They essentially promised.
They said that these waves of sadness would come and go. That happiness would slowly seep back in.
Weaving its way into the oscillating patterns of a heavy heart.
But there haven’t been any waves.
They were wrong.
Instead the pain is dull. It is constant.
But most of all, it’s there. It's there all the time.
The constant part is the worst. The only thing I could relate it to is fire.
It’s like somebody running through a fire has it easier. Sure they’ll get burned but the point is that they get to run through.
They get out.
This though? This is like getting caught in the fire and not making it through. This is like a permanent residency in my own personal hell and at some point I really need the fire to be put out; the pain to stop.
It has to. There’s only so much a girl can take. It’s like somebody has their dark hand engulfing my heart and they’re squeezing it every day and no matter how I plead, they’re refusing to let go.
It’s the greatest sadness I have ever known and it is depleting me emotionally and physically.
I. Am. Too. Weak.
Everybody keeps saying how strong I am. They have no idea. It’s like I’m the world’s greatest actress and I’ve fooled them all. All they see is somebody taking bad news well.
But nobody takes their entire earth shattering “well”.
And my earth has shattered. The death of my brother at the age of 21 has shattered me.
There’s not one thing I wouldn’t give to go back and hug him just a little longer at the airport three days before he died. It was just supposed to be his last semester at college. Not the end of a life time.
There are too many broken pieces. The jagged edges cut my hands. I can’t pick them up.
And so now all I can do is pray. With my forehead to the ground and my faith in God I will pray. Pray the pain away in hopes that one day, the happiness is real. And the tears stop.
In hopes that one day, I can go on without him.
So I’ll pray.
