Losing Herself

I wanted to include a little bit of a disclaimer before this post. I’m writing on loss because thats the prompt for the Writing 101 activity I am participating in. I decided that to follow the theme of boldness I would write about how loss had shaped who I am. I wrote this in a rather abstract way as this seems to be the style I’m using for my blog posts. Anyway, because this must be bold I feel this piece is very “welcome to my life.” If you’re not looking to read that kind of thing I would visit some of my other blog posts. Some of them are really very whimsical and are nice for a light bit of reading.

 

We have all experienced loss. It comes into your life in a variety of ways. Sometimes it leaves without making much of a difference. Sometimes it rocks your world on its foundations.

Loss and I are old friends. He’s been there for many of the important turning points in my life. He was there when I lost loved ones, my ideas about family, my friends, and when I lost my hope. Loss became a huge presence in my life when I was about 12. It was at this time that I lost my childhood to mother nature. I lost my two best friends in the whole world. And the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae was the loss I felt when my parents split up.

To be fair, this didn’t all happen within a matter of days. In fact, Loss visited me constantly for quite a few years. Every time Loss came for a visit I felt my world shatter. I would begin to pick up the pieces, desperately trying to glue myself back together. Then he would stop by again and look me dead in the face as he crushed everything I had worked for.

Loss doesn’t have time to feel remorse. He has to visit so many people in so little time that he doesn’t even get the time to comfort you. He doesn’t remind you the world can have a new normal.

More recently Loss has stopped by a little more frequently than I would like. Sometimes he even waves to me as he passes through as a little sign that he remembers our history. Or maybe that’s his way of apologizing for the pain I’ve had to endure. He knows I lost out on a “normal” childhood. I lost out on having an example of what a healthy relationship looks like. I lost out on learning how to trust. I lost out on learning how to love.

I like to think that Loss watches over me. I like to think it’s his job to admire the things I am creating in my life and once they become too comfortable it is his job to remind me that this world was not made for comfort. He watches to make sure I’m always a little bit on edge. It’s his job to remind me how fragile everything I do really is.

Loss sees me putting up my brick wall every day. He sees how I labor to get up in the morning and put a smile on. He hears me on my worst mornings, the tears melting into the water from the showerhead. He sees me as I bounce over to my roommate and ask her if she’s ready to go to breakfast. He knows I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before he takes her, too. He knows my heartache when I go to a class and I make a low grade on an assignment because I know how easily he can take away everything I’ve worked so hard for. He watches me curl up on my bed after a long day, the smile I’ve held so firm finally leaving my face.

Loss is still my friend, though. I have to believe the things I have lost were for a good reason; otherwise I would lose my mind. Loss knows I will not allow myself to be broken again. He knows how hard I work to keep other people at an arm’s length.

My friends don’t know the real me, the one that screams and cries and feels. I have always been afraid that I would lose them. I’ve always been afraid that I would lose everything. To let them in is to let my brick wall begin to crumble and crumbling is not an option. If I crumble all is lost.

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3 thoughts on “Losing Herself

  1. My heart breaks for you and I can relate to all of this. There is not one thing I would change about this post!!

  2. Pingback: Finding Herself | The Banana Be Bold

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