Apologies.

The last four months of our lives have been unfair. We’ve experienced what dramatically feels like the absolute, most horrendous and unrealistic feeling in the entire universe. It may as well be equivalent to death. Families and friends have had their worlds attacked suddenly. Like we went to war with ourselves and inevitably lost. Individuals we loved so dearly were ripped from our hearts and our arms. They were stolen…

No one in their sanity would have willingly given them up. And yet the lives given and lived were so quickly lost to a simple unknown. Not knowing how much is too much. Not knowing what our body is actually consuming or intaking. Not knowing our right mind from the wrong one, and allowing temptation and addiction to overpower us. Not knowing the next hour our heart would flatline silently, and our brains departed from destination. Not knowing tomorrow, in reality would not arrive. Not knowing all of what would be our ‘lasts.’ The memorable unknown true impact they’d leave on us. 

For every person who doesn’t understand. For all the trigger words and language you all use. For the bastards who sell and distribute. For the jokes and the giant social gatherings that cause me undoubted anxiety before it even begins. For the damn sleep medicine I’ve learned to rely on. For being told what I need or what I should do. For attempting to let my guard down and ask for what I need. For being told how to act or treat others. For being a f*cking sponge! For ‘mothering’ and putting all my problems aside for everyone else. For doing what I think I need. For the “pretend” happiness and appearance of doing well. For all of the common “I’m sorry for your loss.” and the “Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.” And for the “They live on in your heart and memories.” For every frustrating, wise and cliche word muttered from your mouths. Thank you, truly, for now and in the future.

Because it is all of these little things that have made me realize I don’t have to be sorry for my behavior. I don’t have to be sorry for my decisions made irrationally, because irrational has boarded up, locked, and welded the door shut from rational ever making an appearance.

Sadly,
c.