Loss. You never really get over it, you encompass it, without accepting it, you move around it, without ever really passing it. It nags and bites, tickles the back of your mind every now and again. It's in a smile, a scent, a place...a song. It's there at a time, it's felt ...no, it's not felt is it? It's the absense, the deep aching throb in a place within you that you cannot touch. It's not your stomach, nor your heart, there is not a physical place you hold it...it's the imaginary void, thats where you keep loss. Where it touches you and settles salt upon your cheek. It's heavy, it weighs an incalculable amount that differs and fluctuates with time. It presses on you so hard sometimes, so hard that you cannot take a step for fear of collapsing beneath its attack. Other times it is akin to air itself, definately there, but not something you have to fight with just to stand tall.

I don't care what anyone says, you do not get over losing...you just learn to live with it mostly, just waiting until such a time, every time, it takes hold of you again. I will cry a river so full and free of salt and grief before my time is done, over and over for the same people. Stolen taken and ground to the wind. It will do me no good, it will bring me no release to sit within my bubble and let them flow...but sometimes, just sometimes..we cannot dam the stream.

One day, when I cast whats left of me to the fates and become whatever lies with fates sway, perhaps loss will be swept away. Perhaps I shall see and find all that which was taken so quickly, so freely. Maybe one day, when I gaze upon the fields of Elysium, there will be no void, no weight, no time and salt and the taste bitter regret. There will be only release and I will smile my way around loss, as if it were but a pebble in the road.

Wish you were here.