The moon hangs the same way, unmovable.
The stars shine with the same glitter, bright.
The streets stay in their strong concrete, unchanged.
The sun rises, unstoppable.
The birds sing, still.
Life continues almost as if nothing has changed.
Unless life is seen through you.
Then everything is different.
The moon is heavier.
The stars are more obvious than before.
The streets feel tougher. Resisting you.
The sun rises with an extra sun flare.
The birds are too loud.
And life is not the same. After loss that is.
Your voice hasn’t left you but you sound different.
Your hair still falls the same way on your head, but it doesn’t feel right.
You breathe, but it is harder to do so.
You walk, but your body’s gravity has changed.
You speak, but the words come out less frequent.
Your hands are sweaty and cold.
They feel as if they belong to a statue. They hang with no purpose.
Food has lost its taste.
Ice cream makes you feel nauseous.
The phone rings and rings and rings. You don’t answer.
Your body somehow doesn’t want to carry you anymore.
NIghts are a nightmare. Even though you are not sleeping.
Days are long even though they still last 24 hours.
Silence is loud.
Absence is a real person. And you think you’ve lost your mind.
And we have to talk about it.
You are in pain.
And it feels like insanity.
It feels like there is no way back.
Your way back will happen very slowly.
Almost like a whisper.
The moon will look heavy for a while.
Absence will be your shadow for now.
And the sun will look too bright in the mornings.
Until slowly your hands will feel less cold.
Your voice a little more familiar again.
You will have ice cream and it won’t taste like mud.
You will pick up the phone again.
Your body will not resist you anymore.
And nights will not be so scary.
That’s when you will know that life is on its way back to you.
That’s when you will know you will make it.
You will be ok. Not the same. But ok.
Not crazy. But bold.
Not scared. But cautious.
Not you. But still you.
I love you all,