I’m marking the 11th anniversary of you being gone,
by continuing my attempt to forget the pain you left me with.
Every time you creep into my mind
I feel a sharp knife twisting through my back
straight into my heart.
In my vain effort to articulate my feelings two weeks ago
I said:
Somehow, in some way his death has become the definition
of my LIFE.
I’m so sick of being defined by you and your choices.
I’m tired of everything relating to YOU dictating how
I live MY life.
I’m tired of 11 straight years of mourning.
And grief.
And loss.
And regret.
I’m tired of loving someone who didn’t know how to love me back.
I’m tired of constantly trying to impress you –
even though you’re no longer here.
I’m tired of dreaming about you and hoping they could possibly be something more
than just simple dreams.
I’m so tired of being tired and so utterly saddened by you.
And I’m so exhausted of dreading the holidays.
I just wanna be happy.
And I say that every year but this year I mean it.
And I’m doing something about it. Finally.
So tomorrow when I’m being forced to think about you..
while I’m crying in front of a stranger
and holding those strange contraptions in my hand –
I’ll know it’s so I can finally move on.