i'm not me without you
I’m not me without you.
Laughter doesn’t feel quite right.
Food doesn’t taste quite right either.
And this mess of a girl finds herself ugly crying over cheesy bread.
Fancy clothes don’t fit right.
High heels that once felt me became battles with every step.
Shindigs seem like an out-of-body experience.
And it’s like I couldn’t breathe right, wrapped in a celebration.
I wake only to wish I’m asleep, but sleep always seems out of reach.
I can’t get myself to step into the future because
you’re not there.
And my past tries to ensnare me into a quicksand of
things I should have done,
words I should have said.
Everyone keeps asking,
“How are you?”
I don’t know quite how to answer.
I’m not OK,
And I’m afraid I will never be OK.
I’m not fine.
Some asks expecting what, I’m not sure.
Because I don’t think they actually want
the truth.
So I say
I’m OK.
It’s easier.
The truth?
The heart of everything
was you.
And now that you’re not there,
I’m not me.
The independent traveler who longs for home has
lost
the home of her heart when
you left.
And now she’s truly and completely
homeless.
So much so that her skin doesn’t feel like hers.
Her tears are a force of to be reckoned with.
Her heart has an ache that never ceases
Mama,
to say
I miss you
is not enough.
I’m not me without you.
26 July 2021
I wrote this after my good friends got married. I was in their wedding. They were very gracious to me, both in giving me an out from actually being in their wedding to the way they welcomed me during their wedding. I know people have said to not go to parties and to sit with my grief, but sitting with my grief would have been sitting quite alone in a half-lit apartment. I wanted connections. When I was there, it was fun, but the overwhelming feeling that I had was that I’m not myself. I thought it was my dress and my shoes, that they didn’t fit quite right. But then I realized that it was me. I didn’t fit right on myself. My skin felt like someone else’s. Like I borrowed this flesh outer and it chafed. I realized that this was how grief felt on me. Again, thank you friends for being gracious to me, even on your big day.