It's been months and still, sometimes, I surprise myself with the intensity of missing.
Life goes on for sure, I go to work, enjoy spending time with friends, doing things I love like reading, gaming and shopping, and am generally happy.
Lately, I've been forced to face up to the reality of missing more so than ever. Friends and family who are expecting their bundles of joy are all around, and what's worse, I don't know how to react. I don't even know what I'm feeling whenever I hear such happy news. Only after when I'm in the safety of the bathroom under a comforting stream of hot water from my shower, do I finally sort through the tangle of emotions and acknowledge them for what they are. There's a lot of wistfulness for what I could be having now; a bit of jealousy; plenty of joy for my loved ones; and strangely enough, what's most prominent is the rawness of the pain I still feel. It's odd, I'd have thought time would have put some distance between myself and the emotion, but if anything, it's back stronger than ever.
Not a day goes by without me thinking, missing, wanting. I tell myself that there's a time for everything, that there will be time enough for everything, not to be impatient for what the future brings but instead to just concentrate on enjoying the moment for what it is. I tell myself all these, and I try to will myself to believe. But time has not done its work and I'm still left each day wishing that things hadn't turned out the way they had.
