Between Waves

I feel like I’m strapped to a wrecking ball, being thrown in every direction, up, down, side to side with no warning of where it’ll swing next.
Some days I feel almost steady, like I can somehow survive this surreal nightmare of losing you. Like maybe I can carry the weight of it. Then other days it crashes into me all over again, and I’m left wondering how I’m supposed to live in a world that no longer has you in it. How I’m meant to keep breathing when everything in me still reaches for you.
My mind races in circles I can’t escape. My anxiety moves through me like a storm with nowhere to go. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going anymore.
Since you left, there’s been this burning pain in my stomach that never really disappears. At first I thought it was hunger, but it wasn’t. It feels like someone has their hands wrapped around me from the inside, pulling me downward, like grief has found a way to make itself physical and hang from my body.
Nights are often the cruelest. I toss and turn, my palms soaked with sweat, exhaustion begging me to sleep while my mind refuses to rest. Sometimes I take pills just to silence it all, but even they can’t always reach the noise.
And then there are strange, quieter days that feel almost borrowed, days where I wake up without panic clawing at my chest. Days where I shower, get dressed, and for a moment feel something close to normal, before the wave returns and pulls me under again.
All I can do is look at your photos and watch your videos, trying to feel close to you but screens are cruel things. They can show me your face, but they can’t let me hold you, can’t let me stroke your hair, can’t bring you back to me.
I am trying to survive this. But the truth is… I am a mess without you.