Grief hurts every time you breathe

I’m so exhausted

I’m not just grieving someone I loved who died

It’s not like he died in his sleep or of natural causes

It was brutal, bloody, and calculated

Cold blooded murder

I no longer have anyone in my life who knew him, save my parents, who met him a handful of times

I have no one to share stories about him with

No one who understands just how much I loved him and why

No one who can share their own memories with me too

My ex and I would probably remember funny things he said and did

Share our appreciation of how much he helped us both 

We’d probably cry together 

Even be angry at how it played out

But we are not “we” anymore and I grieve that as well

I grieve that we are not together, that we are alone in our grief, and we are the only ones who know exactly what the other is feeling yet we are now strangers 

Then there’s also some trauma

Because I cannot think about his death without the images rushing through my head

The images I saw, firsthand

And the details replaying themselves over and over again

Like a segment on repeat 

His blood, all over his house

I remember everything

My elephant memory soaked it in and preserved it impeccably

I didn’t clean the blood, but I sorted through all of his belongings

By myself

And while looking for important documents, I had to go into the place where he was found

Where he was tied up to a chair, throat slit

He was no longer there, but the chair and blood were

And I knew just how it had happened

I stood in that perfect circle of blood and I remember thinking that it wasn’t as fantastical as I had imagined

His blood had dried and turned dark, looking almost fake

I wasn’t scared or sick like I thought I might be

It was as though I left my body for a moment in order to survive the reality of what transpired there

But I shivered and my hands shook from the adrenaline 

I remember turning off my emotions and feeling numb

I had to take care of things and feeling was a luxury I didn’t have

And even after all that ended, when we were back in the states, I still didn’t have the freedom to grieve

Someone had to keep things moving

It’ll be 2 years tomorrow

I finally feel like I can grieve but now I have no one to share it with 

It’s incredibly lonely

It makes me think that she’s probably lonely too

I wish things had been different

I wish I could grieve with her

I wish it didn’t hurt so much

But wishes don’t always come true


About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

31 responses to “Wishes

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