Letters to Heaven
Things I would have wanted to tell you, if only you were still here.
And just like that, life seemed less exciting. Like the world is devoid of color. Like I will never be happy again. You didn't go alone when I lost you, for a part of me went with you the day God called you back to His home.
It's almost a month and a half now since you left. I thought that as the days pass by, the pain would slowly ebb. I am totally wrong. The pain only intensifies, wanting its existence acknowledged. On my silent days I miss you a little louder. Only that I am mostly silent these days. Then I go through the day with a big lump on my throat while I try to hold back my tears. I am always in a need of distraction, in a constant need to stay busy, so I don't have time to feel or think of anything. But grief is very sneaky. A sound, sometimes a scent or a song, then a smile becomes a tear.
I wasn't ready for you to leave yet. I was never ready. And I don't think I will ever be. It's hard to keep going when I know you won't be in the next chapters of my life. But I am learning slowly, so very slowly, to live around the loss of you.
Hayyyyyy. If only Heaven had visiting hours.
I miss you.
Come back. Even as a shadow. Even as a dream. As a cold breeze or a flower at the side of the street. Anything, just to have you here.
