900 Days of Loathing:

Life Without My Darling Mum

I loathe this life without you, but I will never loathe the love we had

as long as I have that I will keep going, even on the darkest days

Ma, 900 days, 900 days since I became a stranger in a life I no longer recognise, 900 days since life as I knew it was irrevocably changed, 900 sunrises and sunsets without you, 900 mornings of waking up to a world, that no longer feels like home, 900 nights of staring into the darkness, longing for the comfort of your adoring presence, only to be met with a damn haunting silence, 900 days of aching, of breaking, of learning to exist in a ruthless reality of your absence that feels so unnatural, as this new existence without your love, this cold life stripped of your warmth, and this hollow shell of what once was, is something I loathe with every fibre of my being, and I loathe everything about it

Ma, in these 900 days, I have come to loathe every single second of this excruciating pain of losing you so unexpectedly and so suddenly, the constant, unrelenting, consuming ache that never seems to subside, that never gives me a moment of peace, it is a pain that grips my chest, makes every breath feel heavy, seeps into every part of my soul, settles deep in my bones, and leaves me so exhausted, it is the kind of pain that no words can adequately capture, the kind that no amount of time can heal, and the kind that no tears can release or wash away, the weight of your permanent absence that never lifts, yet I have no choice but to carry it, and to learn living with it for the rest of my life

Ma, I resent the deafening silence that has swallowed my life whole, for the past 900 days, as this damn silence has replaced the once familiar sound of your infectious laughter, your voice, once an unending source of understanding and reassurance, is now just an echo in my mind, the house feels empty, the walls leaden with countless cherished memories, that bring me profound sadness, the way you spoke my name fills the air no more, the soothing hum of your presence no more, and in their place, there is absolutely nothing, but a bloody void, a suffocating stillness that reminds me of what once was, of what I have lost, of what I will never have, and this stillness is not calm, but cruel

Ma, I have been so damn execrated for the last 900 days, as the reminders of you that are everywhere, and yet, are not enough, your clothes, untouched, hanging in the wardrobe as if waiting for your return, the photos that caught your radiant smile, but can never bring you back, your handwriting on old notes, frozen in time, while I am forced to keep going without you, and the scent of you, faint yet lingering, teasing me with the illusion, that you are near,  these remnants of your unique life, once so precious, should bring me solace, but instead, each one is a dagger to my heart, stabbing at the open wound of your absence, a barbaric twist of fate, takes back to a reality I wish I could escape

Ma, 900 days on, I loathe the loneliness that has become my shadow, and it is a loneliness that only comes from losing the one person, who was my home, my anchor, my superhero, and my everything, it is a loneliness that makes me feel like I am the only person left in the world, it is a loneliness of being untethered, of drifting through life, of being lost in a sea of my deepest sorrow, no matter how many people are around me, none of them can replace you, none of them can understand me the way you did, none of them can fill the space left in the wake of your abrupt absence, a space that is vast, hollow, unifiable, and without you, no amount of company can soothe this damn loneliness

Ma, I despise the relentless ticking of the clock, dragging me along when all I want, is to go back to when you were still here, back to when life made sense, back to when I could hear your voice without searching for it in my memories, back to when I did not know this kind of pain existed, time is not a healer, but a thief, stealing the past, the moments, the closeness I once had with you, while offering no relief in return, with every passing second of the last 900 days, I loathe that no matter how much I resist, I cannot stop it, I want to scream at the world to freeze, to rewind the past, to hold onto the moments that once felt infinite, yet time is so merciless, so unforgiving, indifferent to my suffering

Ma, but most of all, I loathe that you are gone, and I am powerless and helpless to change it, no matter how much I cry, no matter how much I beg the universe, no matter how much I yearn for you, there is nothing I can do to bring you back, I would trade anything, give up everything, just to have one more moment to hear your voice, one more chance to tell you all the things I never got to say, but no amount of wishing can undo the devastating loss of you, that is the hardest truth of all, 900 days of grief, and yet, even in my loathing, even in my despair, even in my pain, there is one thing I do not loathe, the love we shared, destiny robbed your presence, but it will never take what we had