Kuebiko

There are so many moments where I find pieces of you, that I don’t know how to carry.
There is this heaviness that washes over me, so immense and complex, that I don’t even know how to talk about it or fully capture it with words. It is so mercilessly painful and exhausting. I think it can only be understood when you lose someone to suicide. It is a flavor of grief that only exists when someone takes their own life.
It happens every time I think about how much you would have loved something I’ve just seen or experienced. A meme, a video, a cat, an adventure… A devastating crushing weight on my chest, that makes my heart skip and sink. Because as soon as I think “He would have loved this.” I think “And it still would never have been enough.” Because all the things you loved were not enough to stay for. Because you loved cats, and memes and you still took your life. Your suffering drowned out everything. Every memory, made and unmade, of what made you happy is blood splattered… Every. Single. One.
I don’t know what to do with this. I think it’s okay to not know. I don’t need advice. It’s just paralyzing, you know?
Grief usually tastes bittersweet… There are pieces to cling to- of lives that are lost but well lived and well loved. But with suicide, the grief tastes medicinal and violent. No amount of sugar could keep me from choking on your death. I can’t wash it out of my mouth. God, I wish you’d just died a different way. Any way but this.