Posts Tagged ‘Loss’

Letter of Lost Love

Tuesday, May 14th, 2013

This is a fictional letter.

To whomever it may concern;

Thinking of you always brings a smile to my face. You make me laugh in my worst times and on my lowest days, you make me soar. I don’t know how I would have gotten this far without you. But sadly, this letter is not me devoting my love for you, this is a letter to tell you goodbye. I don’t think I’d ever be able to say goodbye to your face, or your voice, I would break down and never want to leave you. This is easier for me. No matter how much I miss you.


You never have, and never will understand how much you mean to me. You are clouds to my sky, the lily to my pond. But just like the sky and just like the pond, I can survive without you, I just feel better with you by my side. There are those cloudless days, they are so beautiful and so bright, they make me remember that I can do it without you, even if I don’t want to.

“Tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can’t replace, when you love someone but it goes to waste; could it be worse?

Tears come streaming down you face, I promise you I will learn from my mistakes. Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you.”

This song, is a song that comes on frequently into my headphones, it is such a good song. Fix You, by Coldplay. It keeps me breathing and keeps me smiling, because I remember, that one day, someone will be my light. They will guide me home.

When I think of you, I think of a grey-blue. A blue I have never seen anywhere before, when you look at me, it seems different than how you look at everyone else. But maybe that’s just me. Your eyes seem to melt when you look at me. And they take me in for who I am, not who I was. Which is how a lot of people look at me nowadays.

I know that even though you don’t feel the same way about me, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for me. I know you do. And that makes me cherish you even more.


I see a picture of us, and it takes my breath away, so much that it hurts.

I don’t know when, or even if I will ever see you again, but when I do, I hope I can pretend we’re ok. Even if I want to reach out and touch your face.

I know I can make it. I need to extract the pain from my life, this is me trying.


Girl Who’s Trying

Clarissa – One Year

Saturday, September 1st, 2012

It’s like she’s a ghost, wandering these halls. Every time I think I see her, a thread of hope is

brought back. But in the next second, it’s like it was snipped… Not cleanly, because it continues to bleed and hurt like an infected wound. Do I wish I could forget her? No. Do I want the pain to end? I guess… but does that mean forgetting her?

I’m scared that if the pain goes away, that I’ll forget how much of an impact she made on my life.

I remember once, when I was little and we had to give her and Smodge a bath… My brothers and I sat out on the couch while my mom and dad wrestled with the cats. All we could hear was ‘yowling’ and whispering. Then, everything went quiet and my brothers and I looked at each other, then jumped up all racing to get there first. I was the first one to get there. My mom gave me a bundle of what looked like cloth. But it was warmer, and vibrating. I lookeddown into the bright, little, green eyes of Clarissa. She was growling. After a lot of rubbing and shushing and talking to, Clarissa’s growling turned to purring. I could usually make her purr when she was growling. All my friends and a lot of our family would call her a Demon Kitty, I just called her my baby.

Whenever I was upset or just needed someone to talk or rant to, my cats would be the ones I’d go to. Because they couldn’t judge me.

Whenever I was crying Clarissa would come and curl beside me and lick my face, trying to get me to stop crying. I could use her right now.

I swear she could understand me. That’s why I could never say she was dying. But I’d talk to her for hours. She’d purr right beside me and occasionally lick me.

It feels weird to cry and not have her beside me. It makes me feel  empty. People always tell me that it’s weird to mourn an animal. But she was like a sister to me. Or a daughter. And I feel alone without her.

Everyone needs their time to mourn. And I hope I never forget her.

The Overdose

Wednesday, June 13th, 2012

This is a Fictional monologue.

So the day it happened I had had a bad day at school, some kids had picked on me and I just felt horrible. So when I got home I was already in craps-ville. I walked in the door and knew instantly my dad was drunk. Everything was everywhere. Pictures smashed, chairs broken, fabric on the groud… It was really frightening… so I headed upstairs, prepared to be there all night… but then I heard him screaming at me from the bottom of the stairs. He was yelling at me saying I was a mistake, they never wanted me, and that I’d grown into something he couldn’t control, some demon he didn’t want. He swore at me, calling me names… then he said it was my fault moms dead. I knew it wasn’t true but that hurt. It was a low blow. So I stood there watching him as he screamed at me, smashing everything in sight. He had never been this bad.

So when I knew he wouldn’t notice if I left I ran up the stairs, locked my door and cried. I cried for hours. There

I’ll sure miss this place…

was no one I could tell, no one I could talk to, no one I trusted… So I sat alone. Then I got up, walked around my room picking things up and setting them back down. Then I picked up the bottle of Tylonal… before I knew what I was doing I had downed 10 or 11… Then I picked up a pad of paper and wrote a note to everyone I cared about. To everyone who might care. Apologizing. Telling why and what happened. Being fully honest. But then my dad came to my door, begging I come out and listen to him. So I did. I went downstairs to find he had cleaned it up a bit. He sat on the couch with his head in his hands… and he apologized, he said that he just missed mom, and something came over him, that he knows it was wrong to yell, but he felt so alone. So I took a step forward and hugged him, knowing this may very well be the last time I ever did it. Then I whispered “I love you” and turned to go upstairs. I got only about halfway up the stairs when everything went blurry, I tried speeding up but I fell over, and went down the stairs. The last thing I remember was my dad running towards my body, and me whispering, “I’m sorry” and it all went black.

And now I guess I’m dead. I’m talking to myself… but not? And who are you? Someone to judge if I get to live? How should you get that power? I don’t know if I want to live or not. I just want everyone to know that this could have been stopped. I hope you make the right choice… *turn around and start walking away then turn suddenly around*

Wait, before you choose. I love my dad more than anything in this world, no matter what he said or did… Maybe it would be easier if I never went back… maybe if I left him alone he would finally be able to move on… to be happy.

The Crash

Friday, June 8th, 2012

If I lose him… I don’t know what I’ll do…

This is a Fictional Monologue

He was my best friend…. Until the crash… we were walking home and I saw a car swerving on the road, I yelled and he pulled me to him just in time. He could have died. He still can…. He’s in a coma. When the car hit it only hit him, sent us flying, but if he doesn’t wake up… he will wake up. I know he will. He has to; I sit here day and night. Praying. Now that’s something I haven’t done in a while. No one can make me leave.

Sometimes… when I know no one’s going to come in, I crawl up onto the bed with him. I fell asleep like that once. My arms wrapped around him; I felt so safe. I woke up with a blanket on me. I love him. I can’t live without him. I’ve never said I loved someone and actually meant it. But since I’m living without him right now… well I now know that he’s the only one I’ve ever loved. I’m just scared… when that car hit him, his arms went around me… protecting me. He tried giving his life for me. And all I can do is sit here and grieve. But tomorrow is the trial. I will make sure that that man pays for what he did to my best friend. To my life.

I only broke my ankle and wrist. Nothing compared to him. He may have brain damage, he may never wake up… he broke a few bones, but they’re healing fine. What if he doesn’t remember me… what if he forgets everything… I can’t lose him. He’s my life. So this man will pay for what he’s done.

Monologue by: Grace Rosien