Feelings are a complicated thing. You feel them. And avoid them at the same time.
Claim to be numb.
But sometimes cry your eyes out. Pillow soaked in your sleep.
2 months seems like a short time. But it feels like ages.
So much has changed.
I am mother-less. An orphan.
Two months ago. I had a mother. And today I do not.
I will never get to hold her hand again.
A cemetery is just a place. She is not really there.
Bones. Underground. A temporary marker with a name and date.
I know I should go on my own. But I am scared of what I will feel.
I want to lay on her. My head on hers. My legs on hers.
I want to crawl inside the box and lay with my mother.
I miss my mother.
Ma. Why did you leave.
I write this and tears fling down my face.
This is why I have avoided writing. Painting.
Anything that involves real emotion.
Ma. I miss you.
Everything is different.
A lot of good thing things have happened. And I can't share with you.
You are not here. You are gone.
Some painful stuff. I wish You were still here.
So I could crawl into your bed. Lay with you.
2 months ago. I buried my mother.
I saw her for the last time. Placed in a box. Placed in the ground.
My mother is gone. And I have to keep going.
Ma. I miss you.
