that person.

i've struggled with writing lately.

i feel like if i truly write what's on my heart and in my soul, i will be that person.

i will be that person who can't stop talking about sadness.

i will be that mother who lost her son and everyone knows she lost her son but she keeps talking about it anyway, even though talking about it will never bring him back.

i'll be that person who seems to only be dwelling on the hard things when she clearly has so much more to live for.

i'll be that person who drags everyone else down because she can't seem to figure out the balance of normalcy and happiness after death and despair.

i'll be that grieving mother who should be getting on with life by now, but for the life of her just can't seem to figure it out.

i'll be that person who seems bitter to the world but in her heart she's not.  she's really not, she's just broken and doesn't know how to fix herself.

i'll be that person.

i am that person.

i don't know who else to be.

so i'll write, and i'll write what i feel because that's always been my purpose for writing, to get things out of my head, no matter what they are.

lately they just happen to be hard things.

heavy things.

just sad stuff.

i miss my son.

isn't time supposed to ease the pain, or heal wounds or something magical like that?

i get what the phrase means, i do.

the pain is definitely less raw than it was 17 months ago.

my heart is less exposed than it was when i was holding my son as he took his last breath, or when i was watching him being buried in the ground.

time has allowed me to build up a wall, an armor, around my heart that helps me get through each day without actually dying.

so i get it, time helps in certain ways, it does.

but oh my heart, i just miss him.

there are times when i'm okay-ish.  when i'm busy and i don't let myself stop and think, i can be alright-ish.

i still have fun and laugh and find genuine moments of happy.

i am embracing (ok, maybe not embracing but really trying hard) at school and searching for a life path for myself, something that i can feel fulfilled and useful at, trying to find a purpose.

i am trying my hardest to feel happy and not fall apart.

but oh, i have to try so hard some days.

sometimes i feel like i'm just getting through the day by keeping my mind and body so busy that i won't possibly have time to acknowledge my reality.

i'm doing everything i can to play pretend and make believe so that at the end of the day i won't have to realize all over again that my beautiful boy is gone.

he died.

i didn't save him.

i just miss him.

so here i am, that person who keeps talking about the same grief, keeps pouring out the same feelings over and over because i just can't quite seem to let them go.

i'm trying.

it's not like i'm not feeling them.

i'm not avoiding my feelings completely.

i do tend to let them build until i break though.

but it's all i can do some days.

i don't know the "right way" to grieve, i'm sure that there isn't one.

this is just me, my way.

it may not be the best but hey, i'm still here.

sometimes it takes everything in me to understand why, but i'm here and i'm trying and that's all i've got.

i'm just a person who misses her son.

that's all.

happy Sunday to all of you.

<3