The urge to feel any other pain than what I feel...
The urge to live in the present, despite my attempts to not drown in my sorrows. I feel what I've lost, and sometimes it feels as if the one I loved never left. How can I move past this feeling?
The urge to scream, although silence fills the room every time. Do I miss who I lost? Or is it why or how I lost them? I carry this pain, which I accept. I will eventually learn to live with it as I attempt to let go of my loved one, but until then...
The urge to cry, but once again, silence fills the room as the emotion rushes to my throat and begins to ache. There it is, a stream of water rushes to my eyes, only to allow one teardrop to fall.
And then, "Stop!" Did anyone hear?
The urge to be something, carry a name, and say it with pride, only to realize that when I turn around, my presence is the only one that exists in this space.
But wait, did I take too long?
The urge for relief only seems to come by allowing myself to shatter, but I feel broken as I begin to believe that I do not know how. Is it wrong? Has this pain become the power of my vulnerability? Shhh...I hear the lost words, "You are my girl, you make me proud." Now, I am beginning to wonder whether I was truly a burden of love. Or was it my loved ones' fear that they would miss the new chapters in my life? These are questions to which I may never get answers.
And so, the urge to feel my loved one, to catch an old scent. A scent that once was unbearable to smell. Until a whiff of smoke, "where is it coming from?" I gaze around. Ahh, I feel my loved one. It was as if the scent never left the one, I loved.
And I realize that I'm never alone. It is then that I smile.
With the urge to keep moving forward, while knowing I fear that one day I will forget, I take a step without looking back, only to wonder if perhaps it was time, or perhaps there was more to this story than what I already know, or will ever understand, or even meant to know.
And so, it exists, the urge to feel any other pain than what I feel.