You know whats something that bothered/bothers me so much. People telling me I'll be happy again, comparing it to a non-child loss, and telling me how they were happy again.
1. no I won't
2. didn't lose a kid? you have no idea
3. I'm glad YOU were happy after you lost a loved one, but you're not me.
I'm telling you now. I will not ever be happy again. Experiencing happy moments does not make a happy person. A child going to Disneyland, but living with a child abuser does not make for a happy childhood, Disneyland was a happy moment in hell.
I remember happiness. True happiness that swells from with it, that makes the crappy dark world bearable, that you can feel radiating from your bones filling you with joy and hope. That died with Bram. Now my happy moments are tainted, like my dna, like my soul, with that looming pain and darkness.
I miss Bram, in every moment I miss him. And there are moments when the weight of that isn't enough to knock me down. I keep standing not because the pain is less, I keep standing because I anticipate the pain to come crashing on top of me and can brace myself. When I don't expect it though, when I haven't braced myself and it hits me, it floods my body and spirit, I can feel it filling every space within me burning and choking me all at once.
I won't be happy again, things will not be ok, and I hate admitting that. I'm sorry not to offer any comfort, I'm sorry that this life that I never wanted is uncomfortable. And if you're reading this and know what I'm talking about better than the rest of the world, I'm just sorry.