The Void

I don’t remember him ever holding my hand while watching the fireworks on the 4th of July. I probably kissed him, stood in his arms for a few moments every year, but nothing particularly affectionate. Most likely I clowned on his ass for some reason or another, yeah—that’s for sure. Love is funny. 

So I don’t know why it bothers me so much that no one will be holding my hand for the 3rd year in a row. I guess I’m tired of not having the option. For the record, I always wanted to hold his hand, he was the one with ADHD.

Everyone tries to convince me that I’m not alone.

I promise I’m super thankful. I appreciate all of you. You drop off meals, meds and necessities when I am physically ill, which was proven pretty recently. You come through in the clutch via text when I am emotionally drained. You’re there the second I tell you we’re about to have a celebratory weekend because “A, B or C.” I see you, all of you. I am surrounded by amazing people who try and remind me of my blessings daily. Trust me, I’m wayyyyyyy up. Blessed.

A few weeks ago the last person to greet me “good night” was also the first to say “good morning.” I can’t tell you the last time this happened, it’s so far and infrequent for me. Needless to say I savored the short high I got from it, as brief as it lasted. Going to sleep and waking up solo has been my reality for nearly 3 years. Every time even a fraction of the void fills, albeit momentarily, I am reminded of everything I want. I cannot fill the void alone, regardless of what I try.

Fuck the void though, right? Ignore the void.

Nah. The void is fucking screaming at this point, it’s slowly taking more and more territory. I can’t drown it out. I can’t cover it up. 

So I will finally agree, my constant company is proof that I am never alone—but I have this void…