I never stopped hurting.
And the pain it only grows.
I'd like to say I don't remember you. That every time someone asks about you I have a hard time recalling who you are. Not because I don't miss you, or because I don't love you. It's just, I'd like to think that with forgetting, comes no more pain, but that's not the case. The part that hurts the most about remembering is that I only see you the way you were on your last days here. You're not healthy and happy, you're sick and in pain. You are dying every time I remember you.
Everyone asks if I miss, and of course I miss you, just maybe not in that moment. The day you passed away I didn't miss you hours later, no I started missing you a month later, when all I needed from you was a hug. I do think about you every day, but I don't miss you like that. I miss you when I realize how much I need you. Like the first time I had my first Drs appointment without you. I sat in the examination room and cried until the doctor came in, because I missed you. I miss you when I need a hug, or a few minutes of laughter.
I know how to swim. I'm not an expert at it, but I don't need to be. At least I didn't need to be one when you were around. Mom, you'd stop me from sinking, and if I came close to drowning you where there to pull me out. Now that you're not here though, me knowing how to swim doesn't help at all. It's as if there's weights around my feet pulling me down into the water, and the deeper I go with each day that goes by.
At times I'm able to come up for air, during my sinking process, but it doesn't last that long.
Pain. It's what I feel. Pain. It's what let's me know I'm still alive.
YOU ARE READING
my thoughts at 12 a.m.
RandomPeople wonder what goes on in others minds... well here's what runs through my mind during the time where bodies sleep and brains race for solutions to the problems they create or may face each day... yet sometimes most of these thoughts stay a secr...
