I sat under your tree today. I wish you were here but given how sick you were and the state that this world is in knowing you aren’t here to see the suffering makes it a bit easier. I remember how you would take me to the ice cream shop and then just sit quietly at the park while I tried to enjoy a small twist (a mix of both chocolate and vanilla soft serve) while you enjoyed your treat. I went to the shop and got one today. The guilt of eating this has me so torn. I miss those stern words that made me feel safe and loved. Now all I hear is her voice and the silence of the void that is now here. You would look me in the eye and tell me to stop listening to her and enjoy the ice cream. You made things like sweets a “safer” “fear” food for me. I sit under your tree today with tears streaming down my face because I can’t hear your voice. All I hear is the world around me getting louder with each riot and the light grow darker. Ana makes life livable. She makes life less scary. But as you would and will tell me is that she is not what makes life less scary she is what drives the fear. Oh how I wish you were here.
Published by itsyourstorysowriteit
A bright young soul that feels like it has lived a thousand lives. A paralegal by day and a mental health advocate 365 days of the year. This is a place for understanding and communicating my journey through recovery. Please join me as I bring back my blog and feel free to comment and share your story. View all posts by itsyourstorysowriteit