Yesterday I wanted to talk to someone to whom I used to turn when my life seemed like it was running off the rails, when I was sad or upset about something too personal to discuss with anyone else. No matter how busy she was or how messy her own life may have been at the time, she always made herself available to me, listened and then told me exactly what she thought. She never minced her words or placated me by agreeing with me for the sake of agreeing. I needed her then, and I need her now.
She is not here, and for the first time in a long time I have allowed myself to feel that loss without the anger that usually follows thinking of her.
Losing people we care about is never easy, when they choose to remove themselves from our lives...whether permanently or just for awhile, it hurts. The pain is a selfish pain though, a self-pitying kind of thing that settles in our gut and twists until we groan with the pressure of it. It is not something that ever really leaves us, either. We think we are okay and then a word, a smell, a song, a glimpse of the familiar in a stranger can set us back months, years even...right back to the first fresh cut of pain...I don't have a remedy for that other than to just keep moving...keep negotiating the road of this life like it actually leads to something...keep moving forward.
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