Still

I held my diary at arm’s length. I was hoping that the further away his physical memory was the less I’d miss him but the distance only made my heart grow fonder. I find myself still looking for the pages where he lazily scribbled ‘I love you’ notes and silly smiley faces. I pray that he’ll come fill more pages but sometimes I think God has someone better for me out there, even though I don’t see the bigger picture. I’m trying to make sense of it all…

I turned on my radio, Kennedy Thal”s song : Still blasted through the speakers. Wave after wave of music that could capture emotion more than diary entries and poetry ever would. I started asking questions I knew the answers to but didn’t want to admit. The truth hurt so much it was like looking in the mirror with no makeup on, seeing your scars open for the first time. Watching your life play before you, seeing how often you’d ‘sweep lies under your skin’ denying facts and playing a role that was never meant to be yours.

My mind flitted full of memories of the nights and days we had shared words. We’d spent hours learning to love, with time it grew more intense than the last until it felt like we would never part and the feeling would never end. Learning to live without him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do… trying to not feel was even harder. We often tell ourselves that we are ‘okay’ when we know that we are not. Using phrases like make up to hide pain from the trails we face.

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