Day three without you
Last night I slept through your three am feeding time. It must have been exhaustion catching up with me, because while I had a large glass of wine before bed I also had one the night before and it did not make me miss that waking. This is what I tell myself because as unbearable as that dark moment is when I wake and remember you are not there I can stand even less the idea that already I am adapting to your absence. I know I will have to because otherwise I won't function, won't live, but it feels like a betrayal of you, my sweet boy. This is the progression of grief, I know it, I have grieved for the loss of loved ones before, but the loss of you has left an emptiness like none I have known. I am certain that it will never go away. A piece of myself has died, withered, and no other love or joy could ever make it whole. I cry, and I have to cry, I can't stop myself most of the time, but it is not a crying that brings release. It is an overflow of emotion that wells up inside me from an ocean that seems to have no end. There are reminders of you everywhere, and I cry when I see them. I cry when I put them away so that they won't make me cry by seeing them, but then I am erasing you, bit by bit, and it is heartbreaking. So I cry when I do not put them away, when I wrap them in a blanket and leave them where I found them, because I cannot bear to give up on you yet, and I cannot bear the thought that I will have no more reminders after a time, that their amount is finite because you are no longer here to make more. Each day I miss you. Each night I miss you. Each moment I miss you. I try to remind myself I let you go out of love, because trying to fight it would have been selfish because I would never have won, it would only have dragged out the inevitable. I let you go out of love, but my love for you is so strong I can never forgive myself for letting you go.
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