“Time heals,” they say. Well, they’re wrong.
I keep waiting to feel a tiny bit better, for time to make it a bit easier. But the further away we get from December, the more it hurts.
62 days since I held you, since I last kissed your face.
Right now, it feels impossible to survive, like I will literally die from a broken heart.
Sometimes, I can wrap these words up in hope. Wrap this grief up in a neat little package and tie it with a bow, with the promise of heaven. I know we’re one day closer to heaven. I get it. And I’m grateful for it.
But there are moments when the darkness swallows me whole and the best I can do is just to feel. To give myself a break from searching for silver linings and just allow myself to hurt. So, I’ll sit here in this grief until I’m ready. And when I am, I will muster up every bit of strength I have and crawl back into the light.
2 months since I kissed you goodbye and I am hurting more than ever.
I love you, sweet boy.