herlucidlife

If I look at your face for too long it begins to move. I can almost see you talking to me, laughing, dancing in the halls of the house. Never wanting to live with anyone but you I always knew the next person to stay would be a husband. No other title was able to stay, no other title could fill shoes bigger than hers. I look for you in butterflies, in the way the sky paints the blues, I look for you in the wind when the trees whisper His praises. I look for you.

You can’t be found because priceless beings are only created once. No duplicate, I’m the only being that remotely resembles who you are, so why do I struggle to love her, when she holds pieces of you? I look at myself but I don’t see you in it. I search my soul for your morals yet I feel demoralized. I frantically hunt for the heart you gave me but I was irresponsible and it got damaged, tainted even. 

Feeling like an adult orphan perhaps that’s why people have mentors because we’ll always need someone that is a parental figure in our lives.  Is my need for belonging wrapped up in your absence? Stubborn you always said, “I’d eat when I got hungry” but I always said “I’ll never be hungry enough to eat something I don’t want.”  Sometimes I think I stopped intaking life, I stopped producing because that means eating something I don’t want. I don’t want life without you so why eat and take part, when it won’t suffice the appetite. 

Doing to end, doing to just be, doing to just simply say I did. I don’t want that. I’m so stubborn I want what I want and I don’t care if I ruin myself to get it, even rebelling against myself sticking it to my own willpower. Pissed off nah I don’t care about myself sometimes, reckless in my speech. Though angry with God I trust Him too much to still not walk closely behind. That’s what she would want me to do. If nothing else I know that walking with Him honors her, and if I can honor my parents even in their death then maybe I’ve kept my word at being God’s daughter. 

Having nowhere else to be but next to Him. I miss you, in the excruciating way that my heart had been ripped out…I miss that too. 

I often move through life wondering is this how she felt when she was my age? Or what would be her perspective on this situation? So ornery I find it hard to look for womanly advice because I only want your advice. Life has gone from loving to denying if it’s not with you. May sound replayed but you’ll never understand how grief is a broken record until one day it stops, and no I don’t control when it stops. Time does and I don’t have authority over that. 

Funny how writing has allowed me to feel His presence passed just opening and closing my Bible.