It's 6:40 AM. I am awake. I have not been to bed yet. I can't. I can't sleep. I just can't manage to lay down and fall asleep anymore... I can't. I can't stop thinking. I can't stop thinking. I can't stop thinking. I think. I think. And then I get upset. And I cry... I cry. Because I think, I cry...
I am so lost. I am lost. Just lost. Im lost because I have lost. I have lost and now I am lost.
I have lost so much in less than a year. More than I remember I am sure. But what I do remember is enough.
I lost a nephew. A nephew. A baby. He was a baby boy. My sister miscarried an 8 month old baby boy. She delivered an 8 month old baby boy. Are you understanding me?! Do you get it!!!? An 8 month old baby boy died inside of my sister! She lost a son and I lost a nephew! She gave birth to a baby boy who never cried. He never cried. He never cried. He never laughed. He never clenched her finger with his tiny hands. He was still. I was in the same room as a still baby. I saw my nephew. 8 months old. Perfect little boy. Still. Quiet. Nothing. Do you get it? Do you get it? My mother held her first grandchild. Still. She held her first grandchild and it was still. Nothing. No crying. Do you understand what I am saying to you? You don't. You can't. I hope you never do.
I lost a child. I lost a child. My wife and I lost a baby. Not as old as my nephew. 2 months old. Still a baby. My wife carried a child for two months and overnight, it was gone. Taken. That was a baby. Do you get it? Do you understand? I was a father and overnight, I was nothing. Amanda was a mother and overnight, nothing. We were excited. We were happy. What was it? What did we do. It was my fault. I take the blame. I know why. Im so sorry. But you will never understand. I hope you never understand.
I lost a companion. Our first pet. Mine and Amanda's first pet together. It may seem small and insignificant, but being so close to other losses... it was tragic. I held him for his last hour of life. Breathing heavy. Deep... then nothing... then deep... then nothing. It was death... again. Why? Fair? For who? Not me. Not her. Not us. do you get it yet? You don't.
I lost my grandmother. In a way, my grandmother had been gone for 15 years. Alzheimer's took her very slowly from her family and everyone that she loved. I grew up at her house. I walked to her house everyday. Drank lemon tea and played scrabble in the living-room on the floor by the sliding glass door. I knew something was wrong. She started confusing me with other grandchildren. Grandchildren from Chicago whom she saw once a year. How could she do that? I didn't get it. I do now. She fought back against the darkening memories for 15 years. Do you get it? 15 years. That's unheard of. This spring, however, she was too overpowered. I got a call. I rushed up there. And was there. Staring at death... once again. Fourth time in 6 months. I watched my grandmother take her last breath. I watched the life that was in her just disappear. She was gone. You don't get it.
I lost my best friend. Why? I don't know. I don't get it? We lost touch. One of us tried and failed. The other sat on the sidelines while everything fell apart. He watched it burn. He watched it fade. He didn't even care. How can all of your childhood, suddenly mean nothing? How? How can you not try? How can you sit back, and watch it vanish. How can you see everything happening to him, and not do anything? It doesn't matter now. You don't get it? Do you?
I lost trust with my wife. She cannot trust me anymore, and with good reason. I have done things in the past, and she now knows. Were together. I don't get it. Why is she still with me? I don't deserve her. Would I be as forgiving?
I don't think people realize how much I have lost. It is so personal. It's so real and I can't deal with it. I can't sleep, I can't focus. I have a constant headache. Constant pain in my head. Constant. Consistent pain. And I can't deal with it. Do you get it? Do you understand what I've been through. What we have been through? Do you get it. You don't and I hope you never do.
