The nights are hardest

Yep, give this one a miss as well. As this posts I’ll be on the road, driving to Sydney to spend some time with my brother. I need some brother love in my life right now.

I’m finding the nights hardest right now. The bed has become my enemy and I tire of the war. Bed always wins. I’m always tired. Curled up in the darkness, in my own bed, I’m supposed to be resting, sleeping. I do sleep. Yet I wake only hours later my face, my pillow, wet with tears. I get up, turn on the light, look in the mirror and see the same story. Red, swollen eyes. Very Red and Very Swollen. That’s not just a few tears that does that. I woke with eyes like that after my cousin’s funeral. And couldn’t understand everyone’s concern, until I saw a mirror. You fool no one with eyes like that.

I don’t know what I hate more… the bed or the mirror.

I go to the fridge and pull out ‘the stuff’ and apply it around my eyes. It helps with the swelling. Next time I wake there won’t be tears. Next time I wake there will be barely any swelling and the redness will be gone. Next time I wake I’ll be able to smile.

I haven’t fooled anyone. I’m being sent on a ‘holiday’. To Sydney. To spend time with my brother. They think I’m “a little depressed”. Hmm, “a little depressed”? Maybe, a little, anyway.

It’s only at night that I cry. I can smile when the sun is shining. Crying while I sleep is easier.

It’s like my heart breaking, over and over and over again. I lay down and I feel it break, on the phone, out on the balcony, sitting here. At the beach crying, it splintered into a million pieces. Over and over. It doesn’t stop.

How much pain must I feel? How much pain before my heart really does break and stop beating? Is that possible?

There’s no bitch voice, no emotion pointed outwards, no memories, nothing except the pain of heartbreak.

I tell myself to feel it, that feeling this is good. The words taste like lies.

I wish I knew why I feel like this. Wouldn’t that make it easier? It’s heartbreak and it hurts. I thought I’d stopped telling myself things weren’t easy. Didn’t I?

All I can do is wait for the pain to stop and acceptance to take hold. This is grief. I can be happy for him and hope the best for them both… and still feel the loss of him. One day the pain will say enough and let go of me, or maybe I have that wrong and I have to say enough. I can’t think about that right now.

The days are easier. And tomorrow I’ll be with my brother.


2 thoughts on “The nights are hardest

    • Thank you, Carleen *hugs* back to you. My brother is exactly what I need right now. I’ve only been here 6 hours so far and it was the right decision to come here. Decision? Well, I suppose I can call it a decision. When the ‘suggestion’ was made, I didn’t say no.

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