I have so much to say, but I don't want to say it. I push off writing down the memories of the night I found out. The call I never thought about never wanting to get because I never thought I'd get it.
I'm not ready yet. To tell the story. To hash it out. But inside, it's killing me. Inside, I feel so lonely and angry and hurt and desperate. Desperate to change things I can't change. Desperate for anything else to be reality other than what is reality. I mourn every single day. Every hour. I'm trying so hard to stay positive. To hang on to the good things. To focus on what I have right here in front of me. But I'm struggling to motivate. I don't want to do anything. And I know if I allowed it, I'd crawl into bed and never climb out. But I don't allow it. Somehow I wake up and get up and move forward with my day. One step at a time.
I can't tell it all just yet. But I feel it wanting to escape. I feel the story pressing against my insides begging for release. But I just can't because I can't let it go. I can't face it. I can't handle it.
I DON'T want to do this. I hate it with everything I've got. I hate it, HATE IT, HATE IT!
And I know I can't be all mopey all the time, but I also can't be happy. I want to move into 2015 with hope and happiness. Instead, I just want to stay in 2014. I want to go backwards. I want my baby brother back.
I can't move. Sometimes I can't breath. Sometimes I feel so weak I'm afraid I'll fall. I have never felt such relentless pain in all my life. I've never felt it in every part of me and deep into my bones. It steals my breath and pains my soul.
I want it to get better, but it doesn't. Not yet. I have good days and bad days, but it's always there. Constantly there. I feel like I'm falling apart and everyone is ready for me to be over it, so I'm silent. I say nothing even though I know a piece of me left with him. I feel so alone.
I want to scream and hit and throw things. I feel the anger breeding deep within me, boiling up and ready to spill out of me. I think about hitting something hard. Hitting the wall. Just to release the anger. I want to feel it. But I don't. I don't because I don't want people to think I've lost my mind. Sometimes I want to go outside and scream as loud as I can. But I don't. For the same reason.
I feel locked in emotions. Emotions from all sides.