I feel the crushing weight of your absence
Sitting firmly and heavy
Right under my sternum

Do you feel it in this exact moment?

I've been thinking about you a lot lately
Part of me hopes that you do too

I miss you dearly
More so than anyone else in my life at the moment

It hurts me to think about you
This I am painfully aware of

Sometimes
I go to museums or the ocean to feel you
I close my eyes and pretend I will open them and see you there
Hear your boisterous laugh sync with mine
Watch as you tuck your frizzy curly plum-red mane of hair behind your ear

Our last few encounters cut me deeper than any other pain I know
The damage is insurmountable
You spat and crumbled the last bits of vulnerability I showed you with what looked like no remorse
As if I meant nothing to you

I still grieve you every time I think of you
I hate you
(I still love you)
I love you
(I still hate you)
Im glad you're gone
(Sometimes I'm not)
I wish I could pick up my phone
And call you like old times
(Sometimes I don't)
I've never deleted your number
I don't plan to anytime soon

I know the extent of my grief is a reflection of how deeply I praised our relationship
So maybe I've been silent in initiating it
The grief
Because I praised it so heavily
I'm afraid to open it up
And begin that journey
I'm just not there
Yet

Im not sure how I'll process this loss

No one ever prepared me for the grief that comes with losing a soul mate birthed in friendship

Products and/or standards of a capitalistic market
Are usually never intended to
Create long-term satisfaction
That is just not how it works
They need to shift constantly

What is "in" or on trend frequently changes
In order to be able to continue selling new products
It is based on promising a temporary product with a temporary high

she holds my hand in her palm
cradling it gently
as she cleans
the wounds she reopened
again
on my calloused paper skin.
The giver birth
and
the harbinger of my death,
embraces me in crocodile tears.
"Who is she?" I am asked
and in a cracked voice bandaged with promises,
I answer;
"she is my mother."

When you have had a lack of mirroring
And a history of denial and dismissal
Color your harmful experiences

To see another person be moved to tears
Flips the emotional world you have mostly known your entire life upside down

It does something to the internal psyche

I may not cry with them
I may appear apathetic at times
But it's closer to stoicism
Truly

Because deep down within this conditioned mask of controlled and suppressed emotions
There's a little girl whispering thank you

Thank you for seeing my hurt
And being touched by it
Vulnerable enough to mirror for me
The grieving of my trauma