Day 2: Life Goes On

5,197 days. 83 days. 1 day.

I laugh. I joke. I pretend I am okay. That is what the five thousand, one hundred, ninety-seven days since you left have taught me to do. They say time heals all, I call BS. Time doesn’t heal anything. Time allows you the distance to stop feeling the pain so acutely. The distance to realize that you can live with a jagged hole in your chest where your heart used to be. 

Mom joined you 83 days ago. I’d like to think you had something to do with the date. That you were there with her in the end. That she wasn’t alone. I wish I had just one moment left with her. To say I am sorry. I’m sorry I was tired, and didn’t want to talk. I’m sorry I forgot to call her back. I’m sorry I wasn’t there…

There is irony here. I wasn’t there for you either. Walking away that day was the hardest thing I ever had to do.  You had walked long before that day, but this time there was no coming back, and I tried to understand, but you still held my heart. I wasn’t prepared then, and that hole is still here. I thought I was ready to say goodbye…

So, here goes nothing… Day 1. Life goes on, without you. 

I’ve been told I don’t like dealing with my problems. Okay, so how’s this for dealing?

I’ve decided it’s time to stop pretending that I am okay. I am angry. I am heartbroken. I am not okay. I keep moving forward, because that’s all I can do. You left me.

YOU. LEFT. ME.

So, yeah, there it is in all it’s painful, heartbreaking glory. You left me, shattered, and I don’t know how to live without you. 

I write about love, and happily ever afters, but I don’t get to have that. 

Keep laughing, universe, keep laughing.