I tried not to think of you today. I tried so hard, but I failed beautifully.

You showed up, as a lone tear streaming down my cheek. You showed up as a shy ghost haunting my thoughts. You showed up, like a piece of prized jewelry, a precious heart-shaped locket that should be sitting proudly on my collarbone, but instead got lost on a busy city sidewalk and now belongs to someone new.

From the moment I woke up this morning, I knew something was missing. My smile, beaming as it was, had holes in it.

There was a stark hollowness in my bones. A tiny rip in the fabric of my heart. Something dark that whispered to me in moments where it got too quiet. Something that ached deeply when the church bells rang at exactly noon.

I went outside to hear them.

With each tender ding, ding, ding—the dancing bells told me the truth.

Something is missing from me—it’s you.

Your heart. Your kiss. Your voice.

I can try to pretend I’m not hurting; I can try to pretend I’m strong and brave, but my insides feel like tiny scraps of ripped lace and pretending hurts more than admitting the truth—

I miss you today.

I miss the delicious comfort of curling up beside you, our bodies tangled like pretzels in cozy, satisfied knots. I miss going for long walks, our arms linked together, for what seemed it would be an eternity, our steps matched to the frantic rhythms of our happy heartbeats. I miss talking to you about my day—and hearing about all the tiny, beautiful details of yours. I miss knowing you’d text me when you wake in the morning, with a heart. Always with a heart.

I miss you today.

There are moments where the sudden falling apart of our love feels like too much to bear. The grief comes crashing in waves, ranging from dull, to epic, and full-on unbearable. Right now, a salty wave of unbearable sadness pulses through my body, it barrels rudely through my bones—and I wish you were here. Next to me. Holding my hand. Smiling your crooked little smile. Making stupid jokes.

I don’t need you to take away my pain with your presence.

I need to be with this pain.

Alone.

It’s the only way.

But my heart still reaches out to you anyway—even though you can’t feel it. Or hear it. My fingertips reach out to join yours, but they can’t find you through this vast, echoing distance, and my touch can’t puncture these icy walls we’ve built up around us.

For a tiny, tortuous second, I swear I feel your soft kiss in the breeze, I swear I feel you thinking about me, but it’s not; it can’t be. All that hangs in the cool afternoon air is the unfamiliar scent of a future without you in it.

As the church bells end their song, a painfully beautiful six minutes later, I exhale and swallow sharply, walking back inside slowly to go about my day.

As long as my heart is beating, life must go on.

There are sugar cookies to decorate and family members to drink coffee with and emails to check and tender stories to write. So, I will go about my day. Even though I hurt. Even though I ache. Even though I can’t think straight.

As long as my heart is beating, life must go on.

Life must move forward, even if it’s moving forward without you.

Because I know deep down, we tried. We tried so hard. We tried too hard. We tried until we were both empty and hollow, exhausted and angry, not a drop of understanding left in our hearts. We tried until we yelled and screamed and couldn’t possibly try for a moment more.

We just couldn’t close the growing gap between us. We couldn’t compromise without compromising ourselves.

And that’s okay—our painful parting is a strange relief in its own twisted way.

But, today, it hurts. It hurts like a freshly cut wound. My insides feel like tiny scraps of ripped lace and pretending I’m fine hurts more than admitting the truth—

I miss you today.

So, I make space for missing you. I honor all that you meant to me, because you meant so much. You were a blazing light in my heart, a spark of inspiration to my thirsty world, a warm, tender love who challenged me and changed me, deeply and deliciously.

I honor you.

I can’t pretend this pain away, because I don’t want to.

I miss you, in this moment, more than I’ve ever missed anyone.

And that’s where I am. It hurts, it throbs, it stings, but it’s also okay.

Because this sadness is so goddamn beautiful in its own way.

It’s like a dark red rose—ominous, surrounded by wickedly sharp thorns, but full of undeniable hope and unthinkable beauty.

And so is this moment.

Yes. I’m crying. But each tear shimmers with hope, it reeks of beauty, it pulses with the pristine possibility of solitude, of smiles yet to come, adventures yet to take, sweet memories to be made—even though the raw hurt of being without you still rattles through my entire body.

I miss you today, my sweet once-lover.

I miss you a lot.

And that’s perfectly okay.

 

 

Relephant:

This is How We Say Goodbye.

 

Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: Flickr

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Bonus: