Five years ago, I told myself that I needed to write down everyday. Because someday, when I was looking back I would want to remember. I would want to know how I was dealing, and how far I had come. But I remember wondering how was I supposed to write anything when I wasn’t feeling anything. Wasn’t thinking anything. Just was blank. Void. Empty. Five years later, I feel the same way.
Like I am forcing it. Like I just cant remember, and its just easier to forget. But Im stuck. Stuck in that place, where I have been many times. That place where I NEED to let go, but am afraid to let go, because I don’t want to loose her. And her memories. I want to hold on as long as I can, even though I know this is the vital step needed.
Im there. Needing to let go. Ready to let go. But I cant. I just cant let go.
Lately I have been struggling to hold on. Scraping together all the thoughts and memories, and pictures I can. Seeking out people to tell me about her, and what they remember. Wishing to have something that will spark something in my mind. But Im getting nothing.
Because I need to let go. I need to let her go. But fear, once again, holds me back. Holds her back. Fearing that if I let her go, I will let go of everything. And forget her. Even though I know its not true. Even though I know that in letting go, comes the freedom to remember and love and laugh. Even though I know that letting go, although one of the hardest steps there is, is one of the most rewarding. I cant. I cant let her go.
I hear about other people loosing someone, I hear about other deaths, I see death creeping closer and closer and all I can do is freeze. And maybe panic some. But other than that, I get nothing.
Today, five years later, I feel nothing.
Much like five years ago, I have nothing. The words I want to say, wont come. They are being forced, they are generic. They don’t fit. Five years later, I am facing letting go of someone who I loved very much, but have grieved very little for.
Someone who I have very few words for, on this day that I don’t want to acknowledge.
I do miss you little one, I miss your sense of adventure and zest for life. I miss your stubbornness, and if it matters – I still havent mastered the grilled cheese