Sometimes things happen. Bad things. Things that don’t make sense and you struggle with feelings and thoughts that shake you and leave you ajar. Like the gaping wounds that surface with the suddenness of things. Not everything is meant to make sense. Some things are better left to the imagination – you can trick yourself for a little while. Why not – it’s harmless, after all. Then other things aren’t that simple. Some things hit you right in the face and in that moment, you can’t react because you don’t even know what’s happening. Yet alone, how it could have. Then your emotions take over and turn you into a mess that smiles with teary eyes and giggles to quiet the screaming pain that grapples and guards you. It’s all a mess – a terrible, terrible mess. That’s what grief does. It swallows you and everything around your being, leaving you contorted and torn. You become a shard of something whole and no matter how hard some try to put you back together – it’s impossible. Healing doesn’t come with time, does it? Healing comes with understanding and acceptance but answer this for me; how can you find healing in something that makes no sense? The sweetest things we know disappear. Somewhere along the line, they leave us and we’re left in this dark, cold, dingy space trying to understand the why. Why did this happen? Why? It seems so unfair and cruel. A tragic tale that has now been written beside you and will forever remain. It has happened and nothing will ever change that. I’m now left with this deep, foreboding sorrow. The two of us mingle in the dimming light and pull at the core of my aching heart. I know it’s real – I know that my sadness will loom for a long time. I know that I am in agony and that I am a broken mess but what I do not know is why it has had to be this way. I try to put words together thinking that maybe I can weave in some truth – maybe fragments of understanding will morph together and bring some comfort. Maybe this release will ease my stinging eyes and aching chest but no – nothing comes from it. The tears will journey down my face and my lips will remain shut – tight. My chest will heave and I will struggle to swallow. Memories will scar my mind and I will feel a pain that gnaws at my flesh. Is this what life really amounts to – lines on blank spaces about what was and what could have been. Our dreams and wishes printed in ink for the few that need to believe that theirs matter; that life matters. That these moments that take place aren’t senseless portions of time; rather – imprints that will come together in the end. Who really knows? I just need to understand. I just want things to make sense.