Headaches, dysmenorrhea, migraine,
Slit thumb, broken fingers, toothache, labor, hernia.
All – I have felt.
This though, a different kind of pain.
The pain of nowhere to go, nothing to hold.
None to share with.
A new kind of pain.
The one you can’t shed tears for, or scream about, or even imagine.
The numbing pain, you can’t feel, it’s just there.
Here, somewhere between the heart and the head.
The excruciating pain, takes all your memory and at the same time,
Flashes bring forth all to remember.
A lasting pain, the eternal pain,
Sharp and striking,
Surpassing all forms of physical pain that exist – that no longer exist.
The inexplicable pain, one that words can’t describe – absolutely indescribable.
Doubts, confusion, disbelief, delusion, anger, hatred,
A whole new meaning to life.
An entirely different book,
Devoid of chapters,
A clean slate, blank pages. As I am.
The calls and texts, hugs and words,
Display pictures, a display of his pictures.
The condolences and visits. The cries and sometimes silence.
The news – still unbelievable.
The repetition – unbelievable.
This can’t be happening.
I need some space and privacy.
I want to yell. To let the agony out.
But I can’t.
Robbed of all energy, of every happiness,
Of dreams and aspirations,
Of my consciousness and life altogether.
Finally, ‘It is here’. Really? It is all he has been?
Just it? Nothing more?
Well, I loved IT, and IT was a big part of me – is a very big part of me.
I am IT. IT is what I live for. IT is and was everything.
So take me to IT. Show me what IT looks like. Let me feel IT.
This could be IT or not. The sudden bravery.
Mixed with tiny drops of Hope. For IT to return to the body that had soul.
The one that breathed, and walked and sang songs of joy and hope.
The one that cared.
The one with whom I shared every pain.
It can’t be. It, it is.
White clothing. Carefully wrapped.
With fresh blood stains.
Unfamiliar smell. No traces of the one I knew. Of the one I know.
Of the one I slept with. Ate and Laughed with. Cried over. Cried on. Waited on.
The other one.
The rush of this pain as it was placed into where IT belongs.
A new home, a different home.
I’m weak. Helpless. I am a cheat.
Returning to what was once home, leaving with everyone, but you.
I can feel you shed a tear, hurting that you would never have left – never left me
But I lack the courage that you have. And I hate myself for it.
More pain. More anger. A second really is a life time.
More hugs and the resounding words:
“We are sorry for your loss, be strong, life goes on…”
The filthy words.
Words that should never be borne.
Words with no meaning. Words that lack substance.
But every single one, every one of the hundreds hold this script,
Like it were life, a knife.
And constantly, they poked with it.
But there you are!
The silent God.
The one who never speaks but listens.
Never feels but knows.
Just soothe me.
Grant this heart solace.
Keep it through the words.
And help it to learn that in this pain or not, when one life ends, life goes on, till…
…the very End!