I used to think there was a certain kind of beauty to grieving
that I could print out photos
frame them and put them up where I can see them and all would be alright because I could still look at the faces and relive the memories
but I don't have a photo of you
I don't have any memories
I don't even have words to describe you
I'm not the kind of writer to tell about you
and what makes it so much worse is that there is only pain
and longing
and regret
there is no beauty
I will never have the right words
there will not come a day when I wake up and I am able to write about you in a way that does you justice
in a way that does justice to everything I feel when it comes to you
and I will wait for the right moment when I finally feel ready
and I will write write write
and I will read the paragraphs over and over
and it will never be good enough
because no feeling
no love of mine
no passion will ever come close to the strength of how much I miss you
and this is what broke the Universe
this is the end of the world as I know it
because I never knew you
I never met you
I never spoke to you
you weren't born at all
and yet
I don't know what is yet
yet I still miss you?
yet I grieve you?
yet I love you?
perhaps it is all of those things
or maybe it's just anger in disguise
anger that they would hide this from me
that they would take you away from me
that they moved on and never looked back
you brought a lot of truths to my feet
you showed me how little we know even our closest people
how massive liars they can be
how my whole life has been a one big mistake at the hands of those who made me
I realised a while ago that I do not know these people nor what they are capable of
my love for them does not stand a chance against the raging undying hate living within me
I know these things happen
I know there must've been a reason
and I don't shame them for making that choice
but let me tell you where this gets real
when mom texts me in the middle of the night in her drunken stupor
much like she always does
and tells me I would've had a brother if it wasn't for my father
when I do not get not even an ounce of explanation from her ever again
when she goes on like she didn't just drop a nuclear bomb on my head
when I am left trying to figure out who are these people who raised me
can I even trust them
can I love them for keeping me in the dark
but mostly it gets real when I'm on the bus
or in my four walls
or sitting on a balcony in front of the mountains and my eyes well up imagining you in the empty chair next to me
imagining talking to you and what I would say to you
imagining what my life would be like if I had someone to care about more than I could say
and loving you despite never having met you
it is real when I say I would've loved you like no one else
I would have loved you like nobody's business
and this is what I cannot overcome
it is not the anger or hatred or regret
I cannot overcome the love I have for you because it is larger than me
than life
than this planet
the love I have for you does not fit my body
and it tears me apart seem by seem
and I bleed
