I wrote the following lines for a competition. The topic was “coping with grief”. The article should be short and snappy. Somehow, I had forgotten about the competition and never heard of it again. Today, I discovered the text by chance and like to publish it – maybe it helps someone, that’s what I wrote it for.
Ten years. It took ten years, until I understood what its about, when someone leaves. For ten years, I wished that you were here, that we met by chance, as we used to. Ten years, and I did not know why I was feeling bad, as the grief had vanished after a few months. For five years, I thought about never visiting your grave, never saying goodbye. I could´t. I was too traumatized.
I was still young. Not my body, but my mind. Old enough to understand what had happened, yet too young to handle. I wrestled myself for ten years, but never got you out of my mind. You were gone and still here. Neither at parties, while swimming or shopping I could meet you and yet, you were with me. I had forgotten by now, that I had never been at your grave.
It took me ten years to visit you. Ten years, until I knew and understood what it’s about, if someone leaves. Because if one does, then you should let him. Say goodbye and let him leave. Let go.