I miss you…

by whatiwastryingtosaywas

It still happens. I still catch sight of a photo, remember you were here when each photo was taken, remember you breathed and drooled and pooped and cried, remember you’re now dead. No more. Not here. Not breathing. And I always end up imagining how that felt for you – not breathing anymore. Were you scared? Did it feel normal? Did you panic? You were so young, a baby. What did you know? Maybe to you, this was just something else that was happening to you right in the now. I doubt it. I think you panicked. I think you worried that nobody was able to fix this. And then I think… maybe there was nothing. And that still breaks me.

And I’m surrounded by people, hell, at times I’m one of them, who are drawing air into their lungs and are completely ungrateful for it. They use this air to talk about themselves, their achievements, their shit – so important is this waste of breath and life. They watch their kids keep up with the old breathing thing, and it doesn’t seem wondrous or miraculous to them.

If you were here, breathing, I think I’d spend every minute of every day just watching your chest rise and fall.

I promised the next time I wrote I’d try for positive. For the most part, I’m okay and, to be honest, I don’t need to write when I’m okay. But today, this week, it’s like the wave went away for a long, long time and now it’s ebbing back (or flowing, whichever is right). I don’t know why… it could be I need a reminder, perspective on what is actually important in life.

But it doesn’t feel like a reminder – it feels like cold blood rushing to my feet. It feels like a breath caught in my throat. It feels like I have to force myself to inhale cos it’s not ever going to be that easy to follow in your footsteps. It feels exactly like it felt that morning so long ago. Nothing is different. I’m not better at handling it when it happens. I’m the same shitty at handling it.

I’m not strong. And you’re still gone. And, with every part of me that pains in ways I cannot describe at times like this; with a hugeness that is bigger than anything I could measure – I miss you.