I can feel it boiling beneath the surface.
Bubbling and belching as it rises.
Grief fills the geyser basin inside of me and it’s only a matter of time before it bursts from the cracks in my heart.
I thought I could keep it down. I thought that as long as I cried when I needed to, allowed myself the time to be angry, or feel guilty I would be ok. I thought that I just had to ALLOW the stages of grief to ebb and flow and just ride the waves.
And if I did all of that, then all would be manageable.
I thought I could prevent this homesickness. The emptiness that he left behind that can never be filled again, and I’m not just saying that to be cynical. There is NOTHING that can or will ever fill the hole that he left behind and I can feel myself getting more and more desperate to fill it.
The problem is, if people left holes in my heart before, I would just cover them up and forget that they ever existed. I was hurt, no doubt about it, but I refused to feel it. And because I refused to feel it or admit that I was in pain, I became calloused and just used other things to fill those holes.
And it worked!
I just denied that I was in pain until I was numb and then I moved on to the next caller.
