There is an unimaginable depth of sadness that comes with knowing that a life is no more. Space that was once filled by the presence of a soul, the presence of a body, is no more. That space is now only taken in the ground; where nothing reeks of flesh.
Grieving is such a lonely experience. The degree of loneliness that comes with loss is the same unfathomable anguish that comes with realizing a life is no more; causing some form of minor alteration in the atmosphere. Even years later, when I start laughing, guilt follows. For I can't possibly have forgotten that my loved one, whose laughter once echoed against walls, would never laugh again. How could I be laughing?
The same guilt follows when things go back to ‘normal’. The normal where you’ve come to terms with the truth that someone who used to exist alongside you, someone you used to touch, someone whose voice you heard often, whose laughter triggered yours, whose character lightened your life, does not exist as you do.
And when people walk by, going on about their lives like nothing happened, it feels unfair. Why isn't the world coming to an end? Everyone should stop and take a break with me. I'm in mourning. There should be a stopwatch somewhere that can suspend time. We must pause and recognise that a terrible thing has happened. Someone, anyone, hold me, please.
Someone show me this thing they call empathy. Show me that you can understand, resonate and be able to share this feeling. I know that there is little or no way for one to entirely share the exact feelings of another – in quantity or in depth, but I want someone to hold space for me. I dare say I need it even.
I need someone to listen. To tell me ‘I hear you.’ To hold me. To tell me ‘I’m here, I see how hard this is for you but I am here. I will hold you warm on the days that promise the cruelty of cold.’
Do not tell me that I’m strong and I’ll be fine. Do not disregard what I feel. Yes, I know I will be fine. I’ll always find my way to being fine. But allow me to be honest with my spirits that right now, as I am experiencing this heavy weight in my chest, I am very low. Allow me to ache as badly as my heart needs to until it finds its strength again. Do not ever brush off my feelings with a ‘you’re a strong girl, you’ll be fine.’ I will first ache. In its fullest form. Then I will heal. That too, in its fullest form.
But really, we grieve a lot of things in our lifetime. When the cold comes, we grieve the loss of the sight of clear blue skies, the feel of the 30 degree sun, the comfort of our skins. We grieve for all the mistakes we made, for all the things that could have been different, for all the good things we weren’t able to grasp. We grieve our innocence being stripped from us at an age far too young, we grieve the times we were so full of self-esteem, the memories of friends we no longer have, sometimes even the touch of a person who somehow, in a way we are still unable to comprehend its possibility, has become as foreign as a land undiscovered. We grieve the inevitable truth that nothing lasts forever, not even the things we want to last forever.
I am grateful for my memory and how immense of a treasure it is to have one as vivid as mine. A power that allows me to take in every little thing that I was once told, taught, or encountered - allowing me to experience a never-ending cycle of gains. I am able to remember a lot of the things that happen throughout my life - keeping my memory as a personal faculty. We are people composed of both our memories and experiences.