nolongerinbetween

drowning

Posted on: January 20, 2020

2019 0301_222431E

I thought it would hit me like a train at full speed. The violence of losing her. The violence of her lifeless body in my arms. The violence of her absence. But there was nothing like that. Life goes on shamelessly. The sun still rises in the morning. The trees carry on growing. The rivers flow into seas unabashedly. People go about their daily life. I eat. I sleep. I play games. I have sex. I read books. I laugh at sitcoms. I go on with my life. I function. The grieving process is known to be often out of sync. I expected to be ripped apart suddenly by a nuclear bomb but instead I am just slowly suffocating under the flood tides of her absence. I am drowning. Slowly and steadily. You don’t get to choose your death and you don’t get to choose how you grieve over your loss. How the grief takes hold of you. I am drowning under this heavy ocean of missing her. Dying a thousand deaths every single hour she is not here. Sinking down to the bottom while images of her last agonising months keep projecting into my mind without end. Like a painful itch I need to scratch to make sure it will never stop. Like a wound I need to keep picking at to make sure it won’t heal and go away. I dread the thought of getting over my loss for it feels as if I’d lose her a second time. If my soul bleeds to death while trying to retain a bit of her presence so be it, I am willing to pay the price.

 

 

And yet despite my sinking into sorrow I’ve found a sense of peace and calm underneath. Her death made me think about my own mortality and death if not peacefully at least with less anguish and less horror. Death will not be a road to nowhere but a road to someone I love and someone I want to forever be with. This single bit takes the edge off our fear and makes death even desirable. I know that the concept of an afterlife and blissfully joining our loved ones might be just wishful thinking and our way of coping with loss, death and the absurdity of life but from where I stand if there’s only 0,1 % chance I might see her again I am willing to cling to that. I would cross thousands of hells and limboes to reach her if need be. Real love is a rare gem and I was unbelievably lucky and blessed to share it with her. She tamed me and I tamed her and that bond cannot be severed by death. “Death, where is your sting? Where is your power to hurt?”  (1 Cor. 15:55)

 

2006 11 DSCN0246

Tags: ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blogs I Follow

Mind, Body & Soul

Quality Education & Advice

literatura e efortul inepuizabil de a transforma viaţa în ceva real

The priest: Aren't you afraid of hell? J. Kerouac: No, no. I'm more concerned with heaven.

Mind, Body & Soul

Quality Education & Advice

literatura e efortul inepuizabil de a transforma viaţa în ceva real

The priest: Aren't you afraid of hell? J. Kerouac: No, no. I'm more concerned with heaven.

%d bloggers like this: