June 25th 2024
They took the greatest love of my life away from me, but there was no funeral. They bathed and cleaned her corpse, and all I could think about was if they had took her lash extensions out. They buried her, but I stayed in the car. People cried, but no one hugged me, all that I had was my hand being held by my brother as we drove behind the hearse, Neil Young’s Harvest Moon was playing. I was already isolated for 2 weeks and thought that I would be rewarded by her embrace once it was all over. But there was none of it, it was pain and more pain and more pain. Only after 2 years I could finally cried it all out in somebody’s embrace, didn’t even realized how much I needed to let it all out —how badly I needed to be embraced. Because by the first year, the longing had eaten my insides little by little until there was almost nothing left of me. I don’t want to hold on to this pain forever, even if this pain is the only way I can keep my love for her alive. Because I’m done hurting, I’m done leveling up to be stronger and stronger each day, I’m done breaking down —crying and lying on my apartment’s floor.
The love of my life is gone, but there was no funeral. On the dreams where I get to see her again, I have to forced myself to remember the photos of her corpse. Because there was no funeral, and there is nothing worse than dreaming that she’s still here just to wake up to this suffocating loneliness. There was no funeral, there was not and there will not be enough time to heal. There was no funeral for my mom, and there was also none for the person I used to be.
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