I’m tired of just getting through my days.
I know I have things to be thankful for. I know people love me. But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less that you’re gone.
Sometimes people try so hard to help that I tell them they have. I don’t want them to feel bad. Then I’m alone, still hurting, wondering why I felt like I had to make them feel better.
Sometimes I don’t want to talk about grief. I want to talk to you.
I want to tell you what happened. I want your opinion. I want a conversation where I don’t have to imagine what you’d say.
And it makes me angry that something I used to do without even thinking is now something I can’t have, no matter how badly I need it.
There are things I wish I’d said to you. I can say them now, but I don’t get to know what you would have said back. I don’t get to ask if you understood. I have to live with not knowing.
That’s what feels so unbearable sometimes. I can’t fix this. I can’t make one more conversation happen.
And I’m tired of being expected to feel better about something that isn’t going to change.
I want to enjoy my life. I do. But it hurts when something good happens and I realize, all over again, that I can’t tell you about it.
I’m tired of comforting myself over losing the person I want comfort from.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my life this sad. And I don’t want feeling better to become one more thing I feel guilty about.
I want more than getting through my days.
I want to be happy again. And I’m so angry that I have to learn how to do that without you.
If these words connected with you, you’ll find many more like them in What Remains. It’s a collection of the writings I’ve shared over the years, bringing together reflections on grief, love, loss, and the connections that continue long after someone is gone.
I hope it brings you comfort, understanding, and the reminder that you’re not alone.
If you’d like to read more, you can find the book here
Available now on Amazon