Love & Its Inevitable Ending: Death

Death, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized

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He knew I could never live in a world where he doesn’t exist. 

I grieved him and us and what we had while he was still alive. I mourned the loss of our life and our love for almost three years. It was difficult but I always knew he was out there somewhere, walking around, laughing, dancing, living. But that’s all changed now.

I started this blog in an attempt to try and write him out of me, to try and write the words I was unable to speak, to tell the stories I could never tell. All in the hopes that one day it can finally be over. That I can finally stop loving him, stop hating him, stop feeling him.

114 posts; more than half about him; the man I loved more than life itself, the man who loved me, hated me and broke me. Gosh, he loved me. Sometimes I knew it, other times I questioned it.

114 posts about love {having love, losing love, thinking I’d found love to actually falling in love again}.

114 posts about heartbreak, pain, sadness, the inevitable healing and moving forward.  and the things I did to forget him. Trying in vane. Always. Because he knew I belonged to him and I knew it too.

114 posts about learning to live without him and they have to end today. They have to end today because he died. The love of my life, the man that changed my world, the man who owned my heart even thought he broke it several times over, he is dead.

His heart stopped beating Friday the third of March 2017 at some ungodly hour in the middle of the night in an area far away from where he and I shared a life, a home. Friday the third of March was when his life ended {taken}. His last breath drawn {taken}. He left. Me.

“23 Nov – We never even said goodbye to one another, baby we gonna be apart forever”

I have tried to be okay. Even answering the questions “are you okay” with a “yes”. Mostly lies because I’m not. I dream about him every night, he’s banging on my windows screaming my name, screaming for me to help him. But I can’t. I couldn’t. It wasn’t my job anymore. It was hers. She never did her job.

So I’m stuck with these questions in my head all day. Why was he there, why did he lie to her, why was he without her, why did he leave without his things, why was he in the street, what did he say to them when they approached him, did he scream for help? Did he try and fight back? Did he know he needed help.Why was there no one to help him? Because he never needed it that’s why! He was strong, and fit, he never needed help until that night. And no one was there.

I spoke with him briefly the Thursday, some time between 5 & 5h30pm, we laughed, he quoted Riel Prophets’ song “ChillinLike A Villain”. He loved rap music, hip hop…I never knew that would be last time I’d hear from him. I replied with a laughing face emoji and the words “I’m glad” …my last words to him was “I’m glad” because I was. He seemed up beat and relaxed. Staying out of trouble. I wanted to believe him. {Believe. The word tattoo’d on his arm, his motto, Believe} I wanted to. But that was the last time I will ever hear from him. Of him yes, the day I got the news I “heard of him” again. “They found his body” …”He’s dead” it said. But not from him. I heard of him. Because he is dead.

We always spoke about who would die first {I always believed I would because cancer runs in our family} and we spoke about who would tell the other about it. I told him I would feel it, the day he no longer breathes, but I didn’t, I felt nothing at all. I woke up that Friday, went to work, wrote my 114th post, mostly about him; again, and went on my merry way. In fact, I still spoke about him that Friday night, I said “I would have done anything to be with him, and I did, I did it for us, and love” I did everything. Everything I could, except be there when he needed me. When he died.

We never thought he would actually die, he was immortal you know {his words}, he was my superman {my words}. The one that protected me and also the one who I ended up needing protection from.

I woke up that Sunday, that’s when I got the news. That’s when I heard of him. I dropped my phone and started shaking. Crying. That was how I knew I would feel. Like my heart is breaking all over again, shattering into a million pieces. My already broken heart, breaking even further. He knew I could never live in a world where he doesn’t exist. He died anyway.

How did it feel to lose him? Like every goodbye ever said to me, all at once.

All. At. Once.

114 posts. And this, is my last one.





Family & Death: The Loss Of A Mother



You would think after 13 years the feeling of intense sadness and emptiness fades away. It doesn’t.

You would think after 13 years I would have realised the reason behind her being taken away. I haven’t.

You would think you could move past it, that God knew what he was doing. You won’t.

You think you will get used to living without her. You don’t.

You could think a lot of things but your brain switches off as it tries to forget; the pain, the loss, the death, of your mother.

Your body however continues to function. Moving day by day; walking, talking, breathing…one could almost pass for an actual human being.

But your heart, your heart has no idea what it is doing. In fact, most times, you don’t even know if you still have one. How could you? When it stopped beating the same day hers did? How could your heart be good and filled with love when she was taken away before she could fill it?

Today, 13 years ago, my mother took her last breath before she left us; alone, lost and desperately trying to continue a life without her in it.

I never thought about all week though, in fact I actually forgot to make the correlation between the day and the event. Yesterday, I signed off a layout and instinctively wrote the date 12/11/15…that’s when I remembered.

That’s when my brain switched off and I don’t know what took over. But in this take over I finally came to my one great realisation, it was about 2 am and I was balling my eyes out about every single thing in life I could possibly find to cry about and I realised why it all went wrong and why it’s always failing, love that is. I don’t know how to love a man, and they don’t know that I don’t know and so they thing I’m heartless, cold and not affectionate. This, has been the sole reason for everything’s ending.

Don’t get me wrong, I can love my friends and my family, I can love a pet too if need be…but a man, I have no idea how to do that. I know how I feel when I am in love, completely devoted and wanting to spend all my time around them, in their space, breathing them in, smelling them. I know it, most of it, but I don’t know how to show it. She never taught me. She never made it okay. She never wanted me to have boyfriends when i was younger, she’d hate it when a boy would come visit. Even friends who were boys. She always make it wrong. She always made them wrong. And so I have done the same.

I don’t blame her. It’s not her fault. Maybe she never knew either. You can’t teach someone something that you yourself don’t know. She loved us though, and that was enough.

Today. I hate this day. But I’m thankful for what I know today that I did not know yesterday because now, unlike her, I have the chance to change it. I have the chance to be taught how to love, and I have the choice to want to learn.

Relationships & Death: Finding Love after Loss ~ The guilt of moving on


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It’s repeated without a second thought “Till death do us part” but no one at that moment of bliss standing on front the person you are about to marry thinks about it for more time than it takes them to say it…“Till death do us part”.

Until death does them part.

Death, it has a way of ruining your plans doesn’t it. It comes in and stamps your life with finality. The end. The end of your marriage. The end of your relationship. The end of your life. The end of my life. Whether you wanted it or not, there he is, like that uninvited guest that eats and drinks the most, such an irritation.

How candidly we say “Till death do us part”, how oblivious we are to the true meaning of “In sickness and in health” and how nonchalantly we say “All the days of my life” because it is indeed that, it is all the days of MY life, because death came and took you. He never asked my permission, not letter of request, no application to proceed…he came, and he left, with you.

“All the days of my life” is now spent without you, the thought is debilitating. It strikes me to the ground and renders me useless.

“All the days of my life” was supposed to be spent with you by my side, and if either of us had to go it was supposed to have been me.

Because you were the light, you were the smiles and the joy, you were the one who kept it all together; it was supposed to be me. Your light shone brighter and could light up more darkness than mine ever could. Your light was switched off and I had to find a torch, candles, matches, anything I could but nothing will ever be that light, nothing will ever shine as bright.

It is in this darkness I have found myself, it is in this darkness that I have made my new home. Alone. Without you. It is in this darkness that I still hope for a new light. To come from afar, to come streaming into my darkness and light me back up. I hope. I wish. I pray.

There will be a day, when that light comes. It will be a familiar light. I’ve felt it’s heat and seen it shine before. So have you. The two of you shone together. Friends do that you know, they allow each other’s light to shine. But now, now she shines for me. What do I do now?

I love you, but I need love in return. What do I do now? What will the people say? What would you have said had you been here? Is love more important that the opinion of people? Does my happiness come first? Will they understand?

I need love. She is love. But she is scared. And so am I.

What do I do now?

*What people say matters less and less when what you say to each other matters”

Mothers & Daughters: When your mother dies, a piece of you dies along with her


These days I cry for all sorts of reasons…questions mostly.  “Why” being a very prominent one. I question my relationship, sometimes with my mother. If I could have her back I’d grab her and ask her “why did you get sick, why did you get better only to get sick again?” I’d ask God why He’d take you from your children? I’d wonder “would you be proud of me? Would you have stopped me from making all the mistakes I’ve made the past decade…? Would my life have been different had you stayed to guide me?”

I think about you and I don’t know if I’m angry or sad. Because you know you never said the words ‘mommy is                dying….and mommy won’t be here for much longer’ even though you knew. Why didn’t you say? Why didn’t you tell us so that we could know and say goodbye and say we love you and ask you not to go? You always had so much to say yet you never told us how much it hurt, how much pain you felt, how you were scared to go and leave, how it made you sad to have to say goodbye without saying goodbye. You never said. You never said you’re never coming back. You just left. You always came back, why aren’t you coming back?


You dying changed who I was. I remember being happy. Even though you were horrid at times, you did what you did for our sakes always. Then you left us alone. You never left is alone, why was it okay now for you to leave us and never come back?

Things would have been different, I know it would have. You should have stayed to see. You should have wanted to stay. But you gave up. You gave up fighting to stay with us. I will never be okay, I will never be okay with you dying….I just get better at pretending. I just want you back. I just want you back home. It’s okay to skel, skel all you want. Why couldn’t you just stay. Why aren’t you coming home. Just come home. Please. You’ve been gone long enough. I need you. I miss you. I love you. Mommy. Come home. Please.

*She’s not coming back you know

Love & Family: When someone you love dies, does love die with it?

family, Love, Relationships

For some, I know there are times they wish it did. That you could just stop loving that person because that would make it bearable.

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What is worse than a break up? Knowing that someone you love is out there loving someone, what is worse than that? I’ll tell you what, it’s when someone you love and that person loves you back dies, when they get taken. This person is not somewhere in the world, no…they are gone, they have left this earth, they have left your side never to touch you again, never to speak with you again, never to leave their lingering scent again, never to laugh and smile and cry again. What could possibly be worse than that?

There are people I see who walk around with a hole in their soul, not just their heart. This soul will forever be incomplete because it’s other half was taken away. The sadness I see in their eyes when they talk about the lost love but then to hear the happiness and joy it brings when they remember.

Does one ever heal from a taken love, from a soul mate removed from your soul, from a mother taken from her child, from a wife taken from her husband? I would like to believe that the Lord does these things for a reason, but sometimes those reasons are not clear, they are so unclear that it actually seems to have been without reason.

I would like to believe that we do not love forever, but for eternity because forever was never part of the deal. I believe that a heart can love more than once in a lifetime and that when that love comes a second or third time, it will not over shadow the previous love, it will compliment it, and build on it and make you understand why that love was sent to you in the first place.

It is those moments until that next love comes that are the hardest, it is the time spent without love that is the worst, the seconds in between waking and sleeping without someone in the world to speak the words “I love you” to you. Those are the moments that you wish for them to return…or for them to finally come.

A lover lost is not love lost, but sometimes, it’s us…lost