Sometimes I lose you.
I forget your voice or how safe I felt walking next to you.
I forget the endless, late night conversations, and seeing your name light up on my screen.
I forget about the ocean, and the forced family beach trips.
Sometimes I forget everything.
My head gets lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I have been told to “keep moving” more times than I can count, but I know those words are only spoken by those that have never suffered a great loss. Grieving is seen as weakness in our society so I press on, and that is what I have been doing. Before I know it, you are nothing more than a faded memory.
Sometimes all I need is a long sleeve shirt to hide your name. I can even convince myself that you never existed, and it was all a dream. My imaginary friend.
It’s possible to forget you, but there is one thing that stops me cold.
Music.
All it takes is one chord, one string, one chorus, and it all floods back at once. Your smile, laugh, hugs. The sand between our toes and sun on our skin. The random text messages filled with your favorite song lyrics. Or the text message telling me she’s the one. A 600 square foot apartment filled with red heart balloons. The cold, stale hospital air. Anger. Regret. Pain. So much pain.
More times than not, I turn up the volume, and remember everything you were and everything you had yet to become. But every once in a while, I would do anything to make it STOP.
I don’t know when I will be able to remember the good without the bad slowly suffocating me, but until that day, I will continue putting the pieces together… because you are worth it. Always have been, and always will be.
I miss you.
All my love,
