untitled #1

You don’t ever get over it.
You don’t ever get past it.
You just get used to it.

You get used to the feeling of something missing in your soul. Waking up, and knowing there is someone who should be there, but isn’t. Making a cup of tea, and no longer needing to make two. Making it exactly as she used to. Because that is how she taught you to drink your tea.

You have someone else to call when you need someone to talk to. Even though it never feels right. Even though, four years on, you still feel like it’s the wrong person to call. It is the wrong person to call.

You sit at home, on a Saturday night, and watch a movie with a tea in hand, a book in the other, because she taught you to always have a book handy. Always have a book handy.

‘She’d like that,’ you think, as you pick up a lovely long coat.
‘I should buy that,’ you think, because there’s always that second that you forget they aren’t around anymore.

Always that second that you forget they aren’t around anymore.

You’re in the shopping centre, you forgot it’s almost Mothers Day. It’s almost Mothers Day. Why does that day keep coming around, so fast? Another one. Another one without her.

Milestone, after milestone, after milestone.

And they aren’t there.

But they are. You know, wherever you go.

Somehow.

They are there.

You don’t get over it.
You don’t get past it.
You just get used to it.

wherever you are.jpg

Categories: Rackers

rackers

25 year old writer, just trying to find her way through the world through words.

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