Even as I’m writing this, I can literally feel it in my chest. A tugging in my heart. An ache. A longing. A silent weeping that wants to be heard. A grieving that seeks consolation.
It’s hard to breathe. But I find comfort in closing my eyes. Perhaps because I could escape the present momentarily. A denial of the now that is not what my heart desires. I guess I like the pretense that it is not out of reach. For when I close my eyes I am there. Not here. I am where I so desperately want to be.