When I love someone, I mean really really love them: I become obsessed. It's like this fraction of my soul, that can vary in size, grips onto theirs desperately. And if they leave, so does that piece of me. What's left over is this hole. And sometimes if I dwell on the memories of that person for to long, the hole grows bigger and I feel the agony of nostalgia.
There is love that follows those of family. And when death rips them from our grasp, this cold endless misery fills the space. It's pain that cannot be defined, it just is. And the one word that echoes in every tear, is forever. Forever in this lifetime, you will be without them. They can be there in spirit, but what good is that from the clutches of a hug, of a last time conversation of the words you wish you had said. No one can claim your grief as their own, no one can take it from your fingers, from your heart. It's your stone to carry. Someday you have to learn to drop that stone. Learning to drop the things that burden us isn't as easy as it seems. You become addicted to pain, to the feel of it. When things like that become normalized, freedom, happiness, is but a far away dream. So my advice to you is never forget the feeling of happiness, when you feel it in your bones, write it down, paint it, think of it over and over again until its tattooed in your mind. Because I assure you, when it comes to the sadness that cripples you, happiness will be a fleeting thought.
So lets give some thought to those we've lost, rest in peace my loved ones. Your presence may be gone, but it will always be carried in the folds of my heart.
