It’s days like this, the ones where the cold bites a little harder, the wind whips a little harsher, the sky a little less blue and quite a bit more gray. The days without the sun where the once beautifully painted leaves now look dull. The days that drag. The days where the blue jays fly to the trees. These are the days I feel the worst grief.
It’s these days when my eyes, yesterday filled with wonderment, are now on the brink of tears. It’s these days where in every other sentence, my breath catches in my throat and suddenly it’s all too much. It’s these days when it hurts the worst.
When I can no longer feel the presence of those lost beside me, when I look desperately for a cardinal’s red wings to let me know that they’re here. When the lake is colorless and still, a physical representation of my own mind displayed before me, when I can’t take it.
And on the bus ride home the same song plays over and over in my headphones because I can’t be bothered to change it. And in class I snap at people, making things as sarcastic as possible, but annoyed that they can be happy when so many people can no longer share in the joy.
Days like these, cold and gray, make me desperate. And despite never being brought up religious, I have the urge to walk to the closest church. To shuffle down the aisle between rows of empty wooden pews, and collapse in the front of the large room overcome by my sorrow. To ask a God to whom I’ve never before properly prayed to, why he’d take them. Why was their time up? How could he dare take them and leave the rest of us here? Why am I so struck by some of these loses, left in the wake of it all to mourn people I never got to truly know?
Days like this make everything seem so trifle. Why learn about how dense the center of the earth is when we can all be taken from it at any moment? Why should I rotate this triangle 90 degrees if they can no longer even write their own name?
But, nevertheless, I carry on. Holding the grief the best I can, although it’s heavy. I walk through the halls a shell of a person, yet still aware of every last person’s displayed emotion. I get annoyed that the sun dares to shine between the clouds as they roll by, but I still welcome it.
I miss those I’ve lost. I never let them slip my mind. They stay in a place in my heart, never to be forgotten. I keep the memories and smile though I know there will never be any new ones.
This is in memory of them.