I once thought that the hardest part was losing you. But later, I realised that it wasn't. because, for me, the hardest part was learning to live without you.
They say grief is like a heavy rainstorm that soaks you to the bone. But what they don't tell you is that it's not just the rein that chills you to your core; it's the absence of the familiar warmth you once had. It's like standing in the downpour, drenched and shivering, but not from the wetness. No, it's the emptiness that clings to your soul, the empty space that used to be filled by your presence.
They say time heals all wounds and that with each passing day, the pain will dull and the memories will fade. But no one warns you about the scars it leaves behind. The memories linger like stubborn stains on a white shirt, fading but never truly disappearing. I thought I could simply move on, that I could patch up the holes you left in my heart and carry on with life as if nothing had changed. But that's not how it works.
The hardest part was waking up every morning and realising that I had to face the world without you. It was hearing a song on the radio that used to be ''our song'' and feeling a lump in my throat, knowing you would never hear it again. It was seeing your favourite book on the shelf and not being able to share the same excitement of a good story with you. I was going to our favourite coffee shop and ordering just one cup instead of two. I was cooking a meal and realised I had made too much because I forgot there was no one else to share it with.
I used to believe that the most painful part was the day we said our goodbyes, the tears, and the empty space in my life where you once stood. I used to believe that I knew heartache when I lost you, but it turns out that it was just the beginning. The true agony lies in every sunrise you'll never see, every sunset I watch alone, and every dream I chase without your encouragement.
They say that grief is a process, a journey towards healing. But what they don't tell you is that sometimes that journey feels like walking on broken glass, with each step a painful reminder of what you've lost. And the hardest part? knowing that no matter how hard I try, no matter how much time passes, I will never truly be without you, because you will always be a part of me, a part that I can't touch, hold, or see, but a part that I can never, ever forget.
And maybe, just maybe, the hardest part is that I will never really learn how to live without you because a life without you will always feel incomplete, like something is missing. The hardest part is realising that you were the missing piece, and no matter how hard it is, you will never be whole again. and the true torment lies in learning to live without you and in navigating a world that will never be the same again.
YOU ARE READING
The unsaid
PoetryThis is somewhat like a book where if you're having an heart ache you can read this. This book is similar to "words i wish i had said."
