What It Feels Like To Miss Someone When They Are Still Here?

Losing someone means losing pieces of yourself

Image by Yaroslav Shuraev on Pexels

I’m sad. Not sure if that’s an accurate definition. There’s much going on inside, yet I can’t find the right words to articulate. I don’t let words spill out whenever something crosses my mind. Instead, I let it marinate and macerate until I can make sense of what’s going on.

I’ve lost several people these past few years — a cousin, schoolmates, co-workers, neighbors, and relatives. Some of them I hardly know anymore, while others occupied a particular space in my life. There is always news about people passing, and for the longest time, I was unaffected. My merry life continues regardless until it hits too close to home. I was laboring under the delusion that everyone has infinite days around the sun.

With hands gripping the steering wheel and feet on the pedals, I’m hurtling forward, braving through peaks and troughs. The surrounding scenery sweeps by ever so quickly. I’m painfully aware that I’m losing parts of myself daily, a portion I can never regain. This anguish nags at me, crashing in and out like a tsunami of despair. But I’ve learned to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for life’s unpleasantries so that when they knock on the door, I can ride them out. It will pass; it always does.