GRIEVING THE LIVING

This is a reflection on grief, longing, and love; how we hold onto people who remain alive but distant. These words explore the quiet ways we carry connection, loss, and hope in our hearts.

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“Loss has a way of turning conversations into memories you talk to in your head.”

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Today hurt in ways I didn’t imagine it would, just like it had hurt on other days too.

As the day passed, the ache that just won’t go away only increased.

I stumbled on a message from a few weeks ago, and I could have sworn I heard a voice.

I stumbled on a video I made, and I saw a flash of that knowing smile.

My heart felt it; my eyes proved it.My mouth couldn’t communicate it, so I let my eyes say it.

I’ve sent messages every week.

I never got a reply, maybe because these messages only existed in my mind.

I’ve reached out, not in conversations, but in prayers. Not prayers begging someone to come back, just words asking God to reassure my heart that they’re doing well.

I’ve wondered if life has been better without me. Sometimes the thought makes me happy, because they’re happy, and that should be what matters, even if that makes me invisible, actually non-existent.

But in tiny moments, the ache creeps in: did I really mean nothing?

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Something interesting happened today; I wanted to share it.

It was funny; the kind of thing that would have made them laugh until their eyes shined.

But I couldn’t share it, just like I can’t share the million other updates.

Maybe this is one of the quiet ways we grieve people who are still breathing.

I experienced something today that reminded me of them.

I’ve avoided it because it hurts that I can’t share it with them.

So I’ve settled on not doing it, maybe it’s my way of grieving.

I want to apologize again, maybe a thousand more times.

It may not change anything. I honestly wish it would.

It’s crazy how I’m hurt, but not hurt enough to want the pain to cost me the relationship.

But I guess it already did.

Sadly, I still don’t agree on some things, and that’s the very reason I feel like I’m now non-existent, or better still, part of the past.

People disagree all the time, right? How did ours become something so huge?

I hurt them; it hurt me that I hurt them.

I’ll forever feel sorry.

I can’t go back in time, just like they may never see these words.

They blocked me, and it broke me, maybe because I was holding onto a tiny string of reconciliation I later realized never existed, or maybe because I hoped for a better tomorrow that still included them.

I guess that was the final goodbye we never got to say.

I’ve grieved them. I’m still grieving them.

Oh, how I hope I won’t always grieve them,

maybe because I’m still hoping that one day the thorns will become roses again.

I miss them.

And the possibility that it’s not mutual hurts even more.

I never got the chance to say this and I don’t think I ever will so I’ll say this here:

Thank you for the time shared. I’ll always cherish it.

Thank you for the access, the trust, the moments.

I love them, and that remains a reality that even pain cannot change.

Maybe this is what it means to be human;

to love deeply, to lose deeply,

and to keep living anyway.

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For those navigating the quiet ache of connection, love, and loss.