Beyond Grief: Only Time Will Tell.
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“Give it time, you will heal. It will be over soon.”
These words mean nothing to me.
I can’t handle grief. The loss of someone I love brings ultimate pain to my heart and soul. Time heals all… it’s bullshit. The one with the loss, the grief, sees these words float through the air like dark clouded balloons, waiting an eternity for them to descend upon them and drive the pain away.
Never to see this come to fruition, the hope comes in a wave and dissipates quickly, leaving a trail of sadness behind.
Who thought of this way to give anyone a ray of hope that something so intimate could be cured? Our bodies are frozen in time, unable to function, remembering the happy time of joy and laughter. It’s gone in an instant.
Heavy-chested, with tears unable to be stopped, it’s impossible to not feel anything. I want what I want is the heart’s constant mantra. Each thought is jumbled with flashes of the memories… why is this happening? A cocoon of blankets and darkness is the only friend who could possibly understand whats happening inside.
Crumbling slowly, the heart rips at the seams; nothing is normal anymore. We long to sleep just to numb the pain, then upon waking it flows over us like a huge wave covering us in that searing emotion once again.
Time is the healer; how? The days turned into weeks, months, and years…still my chest goes tight with the thoughts, images.
Put on your sock, shoe, lace them up, take a walk. Get yourself together? It’s time to get over it. Words… it’s just words. Actions are just that. Actions as a zombie would roam the earth without feeling for any other. Just try to survive, just take a breath in and try to cope with each moment.
If I can make it a day, I will be okay. I can sleep at night and wake to the ability to think without seeing the demons. If I can make it a week, or a month, I can write down what makes me feel good, that I can erase all of the things that were said to make me feel that I am not able to give love to another human.
Am I human again? Can I break away from this shell of shit I am in?
The arms of embrace are empty and the shoulder to cry on the face with the smile is gone. I miss it. Yes, I said it. I’m allowed. Stop telling me I’m not.
The mental clock ticks, seconds, minutes. Get yourself together. Throw away the past, and it becomes worse, because you’re throwing away what you perceived as love. Then what is it? If that was not it, how do we know how to find it?
This is the truth. This is how it is. Do not mask it, don’t try to be the bigger person. Let it come in, soak up all the life that you had. Crumble and die on the floor, drink yourself into oblivion. Find another to hate and take them to the place where you are, just to see another in the hell that you call home. Time is not the answer, it is the enemy.
Time gives us the last thing we want… moments of stillness.
Cherish the pain, for it will remind you of what you never want to endure again.
Only time will tell.
*****
Paige Manginello is a creative writer, athlete and perpetual student of the universe. Her views are dark and twisted, very raw and to the core of the world she sees through her eyes. She is a beginner blogger, and strives to one day write her stories all over the world. Paige grew up traveling the world as a child, finally settling in Houston, Texas. She works for a European company which enables her to travel. Starting her life over at 42 after a series of heartbreaks, she has pulled from these experiences provoking thoughts of the heart, mind, and emotions perceived by both parties. There is something so intense about the way people react to each other in and out of love. Documenting this, and all the ways human beings give and take has been her way of healing, as well as finding light within the dark.
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