It has taken me a very long time to really process what it means to have lost not just my best friend and life partner, but also a soul-sister and my (favorite) brother.
What does this really mean, in the context of my life?
For starters, it means that I have felt very alone. Not lonely, exactly, as I have people in my life.
But alone in the sense that I have burdens that now just belong to me with no one to share them with.
It means that I can no longer turn to someone and unburden my soul. My most vulnerable self no longer has someone to share my fears, doubts, and insecurities. Where I have no fear of judgment. Or the need for very many words.
This is the toughest thing: To admit that I have lost my best listeners. And the people who knew and loved me best.
It means that I have learned to silence myself. To only share so much. To not be so dark. Or tragic. Or sad.
It means that, even when life continues to throw curveballs at me, I act that everything is okay instead of showing my frayed edges.
It means that I tend to hold in my feelings because aside from feeling alone, I have been reminded, over and over, that I am actually alone.
And I cannot afford to fall apart.
So that dam that I didn't even realize I was building to hold in my tears? I hold fast to that. I spend a lot of energy making sure it does not spring a leak. And when it does, I work quickly to patch it up.
Because God forbid I fall apart.
(Trust me, you wouldn't know how to handle that.)
It means that I have come to realize that all these things that have long been unsaid have to remain unsaid. Because there is no one to tell them to.
Except maybe the wind.
And God.
So sometimes I find myself whispering secrets to no one, hoping all the same that someone is listening.
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