32 years

32 years since I’ve seen your face, since I’ve held your hands or heard your voice. 32 years of longing.

I still remember the twang of electric pain shoot through my body and throat as I heard those words… “he died last night”.

The stillness was deafening, the finality I want to say overwhelming as I slammed the phone down, but so much more than this. I still haven’t found the words, in 32 years of longing.

You were always my safe haven, the ear to listen and the shoulder to cry on. You were my whole world, until my world was swiftly taken.

32 years of longing, and I have still never found respite. Still searching for you in every face, in every day that goes by.

32 years of longing even though my child mind is now grown. 32 years foreboding, waiting for another foot to fall, perhaps my own.

32 years, thiiiirty twoooo yeaaaars, I’ve been longer without than ever with. The moment you left us was the moment I wished to leave too. I knew I’d never find such love again, I just knew.

And 32 years has proven me right. Time and time again. My heart still aches my tears still wet, as I try hold on through the fear.

32 years. 32 years.

September 6, 2025 0

After thought

It seems the kinder I am the worse I am treated. What a fantastically bizarre conundrum. So the only choices I have really are to continue being myself and being cruelly mistreated, misunderstood and remain alone for all of eternity… Or to change and turn into something vile and reflect back the hatred, avoidance or distain I receive. But the thing is neither of those options make me happy. I never win, in a world where I am constantly told how I have it easy because of how I look or who I am. I never win. Just brought in close enough to be mistreated and then forcefully released again and shunned. Nobody actually knows me, nobody ever bothered to ask, though I am told who I am repeatedly.

This world baffles me, but you know what? I’m not sure I even want to understand why anymore. I am just obviously so different to where life has landed us that I no longer fit in. Like some kind of weird orphaned troll, festering away under my foot bridge of genuine compassion and kindness. I offer it to all those in need, and in turn I am isolated, cut off from society and laughed at for being so naive to be kind to a passer by or to forgive the unforgivable. I am a freak to those that succeed in this lifetime. Every day that rolls on, I feel the sadness rise within, now at my throat choking my words, I feel it reach my neck and dance below my scull ready to envelope all of me. I’m not sure how many breaths I have left before I’m submerged forever unable to take one more step.

After all I have endured, after all I have overcome it will be some tiny insignificant moment that will take me down. Like tripping on a stool or being spoken down to one last time that will obliterate my weary heart. She is barely pumping, so wounded from every insult and careless fumble as she shyly still tries to smile so others can too. It will be something so insignificant, that people will laugh at my ruins and further critique my worth. She should have tried harder, smiled more, reached out more, been more and made more they will say. It will be my fault and I will be forgotten as quickly as I came. Back into the nothingness where thoughts may go to die, into the after.