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Time heals all wounds.
We've all heard this saying, some even believe it.
I don't.
It's one of the biggest lies I've ever heard,
right up there with 'It'll get easier' and 'It won't hurt forever'.

I know that they are lies
because I've spent more than half my life
living in a world where you no longer breathe;
a world where your heart no longer beats.

The truth is that time heals nothing,
it doesn't get easier
and so far it has hurt forever.

Loosing you hasn't gotten easier,
I've just gotten better at putting my pain and longing into a box.

Packed away in the back of my emotional closet
and hidden from the world.

It doesn't hurt any less today than it did seventeen years ago.
It's not easier,
it's not less painful
and I sure as hell don't miss you less.
In fact,
I miss you more.

I miss you more
For all the things I cannot tell you and share.
I miss you more
With every thought of you.
I miss you more
For my children that you'll never meet and
who'll never know the amazing uncle you would have been.

I miss you more for all these reasons, plus a million more;
each reason is salt
in a gaping, never-healing wound.

I miss you more
even when I pack it back in the box
and hide it away again.

Today...
Every today, I miss you most.
R. E. M Heslop
Shattered glass litters the ground,
Crumpled metal all around.
A ****** that won't stop blaring,
Sirens and shouts make a cacophony of sound.

I walk the grass strip between two roads,
Sorrounded by death and destruction.
I know it's loud but my mind can't process,
I'm stuck in a movie that has been put on mute.

The paramedics pull your body from your totaled car,
I cannot pull my eyes from the wounds that will never heal or scar.
The world moves in doubled speed but I can't keep up,
Like using a bycicle to follow a speeding truck.

I squeeze my eyes shut to keep the officials at bay,
Maybe if I can't see them, they'll go away.
I can't stand to be told what I already intuited,
I'm not ready to face a world without you in it.

If wishes were leaves then mine would have come true,
I'd still live in a world where there's a living you.
But wishes aren't leaves or raindrops or coins,
And miracles are stories made up by grieving little girls.
R. E. M Heslop 💔

— The End —