Again?

Do we have to do this again? I mean, “we get to do this again!” That’s my pseudo adult “change is inevitable, growth is optional” part of my personality is telling me.

At the soft, squishy core of me though is dread.

Another 9/11. Another birthday without Natalie. Another milestone passing by the sides of the car windows that I try to hang on to in the rear view mirror of these mashed together days.

I was fortunate this year in that I was so preoccupied with Olivia’s birthday party that I didn’t spend the entire month of August dreading the 11th of September.

Now it feels as if I’m playing catch up in some sick game.

“Feel bad that she’s gone. Feel bad that you didn’t feel bad for as long as you usually do. Berate yourself for letting full days pass without feeling the misery that accompanies the consciousness of thinking about life without your sister. Damn you.”

I know she wouldn’t want me to feel like this, I’m sure she’s laughing at my ridiculousness. I will, when I feel better.

I miss her. I miss her so much my eye have a stabbing sensation that lingers long after the tears have fallen. My nose is prickly, my throat is sore, scratchy, closing up and my chest hurts. Like my rib cage is made of quicksand and caving in on me. Fast and slow. Eternal.

I am part of a grief group on FB and everyday I see a post that basically says “I lost my (so and so) (x amount of days/months/years), when does the pain go away?”

Really?

Never. It will never go away.

Fortunately, neither will the memories or the love.

That’s what I will try to focus on this week-weekend while I try to be more gentle with myself and my grief.

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