(To anyone who has lost someone they love.)
The pages of my journal are damp from my tears. It has been hard, so hard. Seeing you go has taken a toll on me. My emotions weigh down on me, but unlike anchors, they don’t keep me tethered. I am drowning, head barely above the water. The waves crash into me, and my soul breaks a little bit more each time. When will the storm end?
There’s a hole in me from where you used to be. Darling, smile that smile of yours from heaven, for that’s where you must be. Tell me it’s okay to start living again, to breathe once more. I’ve been holding my breath much too long now, and I don’t think blue looks good on me. Tell me darling, when will the storm end?
I get it now, everything is temporary. Life is temporary. It never lasts forever, it just can’t. This life was given to us on lease. And I suppose yours had expired. But you made good use of it while you had it, and you created such unimaginable joy within the souls of a multitude of people. You were fireworks lighting up the dark night sky. You ricocheted through the rain clouds, and burst delightfully into hundreds of colours. But how I miss you. So darling, when will the storm end?
- Mutile. Upon the passing of my grandfather.