They don't tell you about the friends you will lose, nor do they tell you that the world will go on when your world has stopped. They don't tell you of the songs that will make you burst into tears five years later, entire CDs you can't listen to ever again. They don't tell you about the permanent ache you can't specify in this land without a map. There is no geographical place called the land of broken hearts, no mile marker to track your progress through grief...mile 2,892, mile 2,893....nearly there, almost done, destination reached. They don't tell you that you will become the grim reaper for expectant parents everywhere, you will be the last one they inform, the one they walk away from, hoping that it doesn't happen to them. They don't tell you that you will measure other's pain by your own, rightly or wrongly. They don't tell you what to do with the overwhelming, boundless love you are aching to give to one little person, spilling out of you with nowhere to go. If they are wise, they might tell you that the hole will never fill, and they will say that you will survive, somehow.
And you do. You survive, whether you want to or not. Whether you know how to survive, or not. You go on.
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4 comments:
Gosh, I don't have much to say except..."so very true".
I guess I can say I've been told then...although I really don't want to believe it.
That's it exactly.
Life goes on. And on.
All of this is so true. The "measure other's pain by your own" hits me hard. I struggle with this b/c most anything in comparison doesn't phase me anymore. I think that's pretty darn sad.
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