Truth

I wrote this on behalf of a friend who lost someone very special. Sometimes it is hard to articulate what we feel when forced to live life without those closest to us. I hope that I have said what you could not say and that you receive healing as the words flow from my heart to yours...

It may look as though my mind is blank, but the truth is I'm thinking of you.

The truth is that no one really knows how I feel.
The pain I sometimes hide is at best unbearable
and at worst, torture... yet I continue to smile.

Others can't deal with the truth that is in my heart: the truth of the guilt and the shame that I hold as near to me as my next breath, the hurt that goes to bed with me like a scorned lover. They do not know the truth. They cannot comprehend it.

So I keep it to myself. I greet it in the morning with every rising sun. I stare into the eyes of its darkness when I awaken from my sleep with silent screams. It has become part of me. My cloak.
The heaviest garment I have ever worn.
If only there was someone who could share this burden, who could help me carry this load. I'm afraid there is not.

So I bear it. I live...
and breathe...
and move under affliction's control. I loathe this thing. I want to be free.

There is only one way to rid myself of this torment [forgive yourself, I hear you whisper], I know, but part of me needs that security.
It's the only thing that keeps me alive...the only thing that reminds me I can still feel...the only thing I have to remind me of you.
The truth is... I never got to say goodbye
and THAT is by far the worst truth known to man.