I am....

‘I am sad’

My heart aches. The pain is as fresh as on the day it happened. Rivulets of grief make fresh streams through my body. My body is curled up on the lounge, I feel the course fabric against my face as the tears leave fresh tracks; I cry for me, for her, for all the lives she touched and will never touch again. I let it run unchecked until I am consumed, until I can no longer function.

I don’t want to function; I want to stay in this position until the last sun has set; I want to drown in my sorrow. Die from it.

‘I am exhausted.’

That is the thought that is repeating through my weary mind over and over. It’s a bone deep exhaustion; the type that over takes and paralyses; the type where even breathing feels like hard-work; the type where my mouth can’t form coherent words and I get angry even thinking of speaking.

My legs are like lumps of useless wood – attached, thankfully, but no longer operational. My arms have a slow burn up the back of them, painful to move and aching. It’s odd this burn; I do not know where it came from; I have not moved from this prone position since it happened.

Sleepiness has attached its warm tendrils to my mind, delicious and delectable. I give in to its attractive offer. I let it take me where none can touch me; where I am beyond the painful reach.

‘I am cold’

The chill has burrowed deep into my body. Not unlike a fever that has broken – it sends shivers through my muscles. I shake uncontrollably, my hands press together snug between my knees – warding off the numbing ice that has devoured them.

I am wrapped in a thick woollen rug. The sun beyond the room that has become my prison holds no comfort; its warmth is quickly surpassed by the gnawing coldness that has consumed me.

I can never remember being this cold. I take a shower; water so hot that it steams the small, blue tiled bathroom. So scorching that the mirror is fogged; I can no longer see myself. I don’t need to; I know the pallor of my skin is unhealthy. My body is scrawny; the bones peek through.

‘I am hungry’

The growl of my tummy is like an angry cat, clawing at my insides demanding sustenance. It’s vocal, and angry. It turns in my stomach, rubbing its fur on the lining. It prowls; hunting for food that isn’t coming. It is purring; the sound loud enough to make it outside.

I am moving; I am up. I must feed.

‘I was loved’

You filled me with sunshine. Everything else paled in comparison; you taught me to love, to be loved. You taught me about life; about everything.

You were my rock; my shoulder; my best friend.

I remember your scent, it surrounds me now; that pretty, soft scent that crept into a room. It was the scent of twilight in winter; smoky fires and pine trees; but feminine, always feminine.

Your laugh was rare; like a blood diamond. Precious when it was there, fleeting and sweet. Oh, how I loved to make you laugh.

Your beauty was under-stated, fading with age but ever present. It was your inner beauty that shone through.


‘I am loved’

He has been there with me since it happened; a quiet, solid, comforting presence.

He has sat with me in the darkened room; in the dirty bed linen and rocked me whilst the sobs wracked my small body.

He has enveloped me within his strong arms and whispered quiet words into the nape of my neck as I have given into the grief.

He has also left me when I needed space.

He is my rock, my shoulder, my best friend. No one can replace you but this one comes close. You approved; your blessing wasn’t needed though but I’m glad it came.

‘I am alive’

I can hear; I can see; I can feel; I can taste; I can touch.

You were part of me and with your leaving you took part of me. I felt like I was dying but I didn’t. I wanted to and now I don’t.

I am moving forward; one slow step at a time. You would be proud, I hope.