Just like a spoiled child, I screamed those words into the universe, not sure if anyone, including God was listening. It had been a trying day, one filled with so many reminders that my beloved was really gone. I want more time with you! I want to see all the future might have held. I want to share the highs and lows. It’s not fair–we needed more time.
I didn’t get to say goodbye, either. That in itself is its own kind of torture. I didn’t get to tell you, one more time, that I love you. I didn’t get to tell you, once again, how amazing you were. I didn’t get to hug you and feel your heartbeat. No more texts, phone calls, or impromptu visits. I want more—and I want the future that we dreamed of and planned together, but it’s impossible now.
I feel like I’ll go crazy sometimes with these sneaky waves of recollection. It’s rarely an innocent memory–it’s often accompanied by heart palpitations and tear/filled eyes. Whether it’s a parent, a brother, or a child that I’m missing, the desire to touch them makes me sick with longing.
I found the article below recently. I’m always amazed by how folks can take a subject as broad as grief and write things that are straight to the point and heart of the matter. I hope it helps you, as well, and feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section.