It Doesn’t Just Go Away, Does It?

There should have been a handbook for dealing with pain; “The Agonizing Realization That You Won’t Stop Hurting Overnight-A Firsthand Experience”.

Pain is one thing I’m too familiar with. The pain of a dying friendship you know will never be the same, the agonizing realization that everything is falling apart around you, and the heartbreak that comes with losing someone you love, even though they’re still alive. These kinds of grief dont come with a manual, and it took raw experience for me to find that out. Sometimes I wonder how I function despite the grief, despite the anger, despite the turmoil.

Maybe it’s the hope that things will get better, or the recurring presences in my life that remind me there is something worth living for. Either ways, I’ve survived the present hurt, and almost sure I’ll conquer everyone that comes after it. The only horror is that it persists, the pain. There is no one day that it stops hurting, every day I wake up and there is something twisting a jagged knife into my heart and I am sick of it.

It’s funny how all it takes is one trigger to send you spiraling into oblivion. One scent, one song, one phrase, and you’re back to square one. Back to the roots of your grief, back to the hill you planted the seeds of your sadness on.

When you love someone so deeply and they are taken from you the love doesn’t disappear, it doesnt just get up and leave, it stays. And soon enough that love turns into something else, some other emotion… fear, anger, hatred, pain.

This pain becomes your love in practice. It slowly clouds your emotions, and soon enough your mind becomes overthrown with the “what if’s”, the “if only’s”, the promise of those that never were. It’s sick and hopeful at the same time. It’s torture.