Grief Written

Our love arrived at the hospital promptly at 5:40 on a Monday. Sometime between the bruised knees and salty kisses it's heart stopped beating. It arrived quietly, held in my shaking arms. There were no sirens, no screaming, just silent tears. It was placed on a gurney where it was rushed to surgery. I was the concerned loved one sitting in the waiting room. I was the surgeon thrusting my palms against a still heart just hoping for a beat. I was waiting. I was hoping. Where were you? Probably still sitting on that mountain where our love collapsed. I couldn't explain to the urgent surgeon our medical history or past. Everything was fine. Everything seemed fine. And then suddenly everything was anything but fine. Maybe it started when I couldn't look at him when he got in the car. Or it could've been when I turned up the radio to avoid conversation. Maybe it was when he brought me to the edge of a cliff and forgot I hated heights. Or it might've

"I don't know why I say the things I do and I don't know why I can't just trust my baby. I wish I could just bottle it all up and throw it off a cliff never to be seen again. I don't want to be scared all the time. I don't want to wonder if I'm good enough. I hate it. I hate how I take it all out on you.  You don't deserve it. You're only human. The mistakes you make aren't intended to hurt me. They're only mistakes.  Everyone makes mistakes in life, but that doesn't mean they have to pay for them for the rest of their lives. Sometimes the best people make bad choices. It doesn't mean they're bad, It just means their human." -a confession from a regretful boy. July 5, 2015. You know I loved you. You know I chose you. You know that I gave you everything. You know that I did everything to be forgiven. You know that for a long time until the end you didn't treat me how I deserved.  You're ang

I knew underneath it all, He truly did love me. When we were sleeping he used to pull me closer, brush my hair off my face, and pull the blankets around me tighter. He did all of this as he slept soundly. He subconsciously loved me. But I rather have someone choose me in the daylight, with his eyes open, knowing what he was doing. I rather be loved above all instead of underneath it all. And that is why I now sleep alone.