The Sound of White

The words of this Missy Higgins song keep playing over and over in my head.

Like a freeze-dried rose, you will never be
What you were, what you were to me in memory
But if I listen to the dark
You'll embrace me like a star
Envelope me, envelope me...

If things get real for me down here,
Promise to take me to before you went away
If only for a day...

But if I never feel again, at least that nothingness
Will end the painful dream, of you and me...

I only seem to feel the deep urge to write here when I'm feeling raw, broken and full of emotion. I guess that's when I reach a point where I can't keep it inside anymore.

There's something about this place that keeps me hiding in the shadows of grief.

Keeps it lurking inside me.

I feel trapped by it.

I need a fresh start.

Fresh air.

I completely understand that to move past grief you must process it but being here I'm stifled. I'm just swimming in it over and over again. I'm not connected to this place. Yuna's not here. She's somewhere but not here. I will always have her, my love. This place isn't it.

You know it's the place that hurts you and causes you repeated pain when you want to vomit at the thought of the hospital.

When you can't go for a nice walk along the esplanade without feeling anxious because it's in your line of vision.

When you're at the local shopping centre and your partner grabs you and hugs you so tight in order to protect you from seeing the surgeon who had his hands inside you.

The person who stole so much of me.

Who broke me into pieces.

Who just so happened to be shopping too.

When you can't go back to work because everyone knows your story

When they don't trust you and don't want to involve themselves.

When you can't breathe.

When you can't start over or even go back to where you were.