30 March 2021 – Subsumed Grief

I remember in those early days when I still struggled to breathe. I remember feeling like I was underwater, like the whole world was behind the waves.

Will it be like this for always?
Honestly, I hoped it would be.

And then came Liam.

I was a single mother by choice. I purposely hadn’t had a relationship in years. But damn it, Liam was just my type. And despite my brokenness (or maybe because of it?), he wanted me.

And for a second, everything was beautiful.
I think everything that followed was me trying to hold on to that beauty.

I met Liam only months before Adrian’s first birthday. We were thrown together by circumstances, and I was still only focusing on the things right in front of me—eat, sleep, breathe. I was taking steps into the world, but they were tiny. And it was literally weeks before I noticed Liam was noticing me. And he still had to finally, bluntly come right out and say it.

And it was like someone turned on a light.

Normally I hate these cliches, a bright light in a dark room. But in this case it fit. Because there I sat, blinking emotionally. Rubbing the sleep and the grief from my eyes. Is this what it means to be awake again? Is this what it means to be alive?

And holding on to those moments of pure joy in the beginning—am I even allowed to find happiness again?
I certainly tried.

And I think if this had been a fairy story, there would have been a happy ending. It’s a thought I often come back to. If my life were a movie, we would have been married. But real life doesn’t work that way, and our too-quick relationship imploded, and then petered off into nothing.

And one of the things that hurts most, is that my grief over this silly thing for a while subsumed the much greater grief.

And so Liam was the person I was grieving in those early days. Liam was the person I had to push out of my mind. And I hated it; hated how he had taken over what had felt heavy, yes, but also clean. I hated how he brought me back to life again, only to leave.

I both hated and yearned for him to leave.
But damn it, I wish he hadn’t taken so much of me.

Related Posts:

Write Your Grief: I only write to ghosts. You must be one of them.
Write Your Grief: Fairytales
Write Your Grief: Peace

Posts written in response to prompts from Megan Devine’s Refuge in Grief writing program.
Return to Write Your Grief Homepage

Share this post via:

Sunset over Arizona - Feature

12 Feb 2018 – Hard Things

4 April 2021 – Memories Part 2

Sunlight through the trees, North Lake Tahoe, California (Miranda Hernandez)

25 Aug 2018 – Amy Anne

19 March 2021 – Where I Live Now

Palm trees over the Pacific Ocean - Feature

7 Feb 2018 – Beauty

Miranda on the shore of Lake Tahoe, California (photo used with permission)

23 Aug 2018 – Windows

27 March 2021 – Community

22 March 2021 – Kindness…

30 March 2021 – The 13th Guest

Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, Big Sur, California (Miranda Hernandez)

22 May 2018 – I only write to ghosts. You must be one of them.

Sunset on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

2 Jun 2018 – Peace

Sleeping Giant Trail 1 - Feature

25 Feb 2018 – That Day

Lakeside in Incline Village 3

14 Feb 2018 – I love you. Please.

Limp hand holding a cell phone

26 Mar 2019 – The Worst Thing that Never Happened

A seagull over the Pacific Ocean - Feature

9 Feb 2018 – No

Keālia Beach 2 - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Unspoken

17 March 2021 – Who I Used to Be

24 March 2021 – Emulation

31 Jan 2018 – Choice

Seagulls on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

27 May 2018 – Fairytales

Tree branch in California - Feature

5 Feb 2018 – Akhilandeshvari

Wide angle view of Miranda standing on a deserted beach in California at sunset. She is wearing a pink kimono fluttering in the breeze (Synch Media)

30 Jan 2018 – The Second Death

A Letter to My Belly (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda making a heart on her belly (Synch Media)

24 Feb 2018 – A Letter to My Belly after the Stillbirth of my Firstborn Child

Close up of Miranda and Adrian in the hospital after Adrian's birth. Both of their eyes are closed, and Miranda is holding Adrian's hand

6 Feb 2018 – Regret

Lakeside in Incline Village, North Lake Tahoe, Nevada (Miranda Hernandez)

13 Feb 2018 – The Condition of My Heart

Title: Grief is a Mother, Too | overlaid on an image of Miranda and Elephant on the coast at sunset (Synch Media)

2 Feb 2018 – Grief is a Mother, Too

Miranda on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

28 May 2018 – Planet Miranda

Incline Village, North Lake Tahoe - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Time

31 March 2021 – Clarity

Sunset over the California desert, with highway signs in the distance (Miranda Hernandez)

1 Feb 2018 – Photos

Hiking the Sleeping Giant Trail, Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawai'i

3 Feb 2018 – The Kindest Thing

Miranda on the Pacific Coast 2 - Feature

10 Feb 2018 – This is How I Feel About Life

21 March 2021 – Does Grief Mourn?

Title: My Personal Experience with Grief | overlaid on an image of Miranda in Kaua'i (Luna Kai Photography)

29 Jan 2018 – Grief

Miranda with Adrian's First Blanket - SQ

2 Feb 2018 – Elephant Onesies

Keālia Beach 1 - Feature

8 Feb 2018 – Prickly

Birds on the Pacific Coast in California - Feature

22 Feb 2018 – Fuck

The first blanket and baby toy Miranda purchased for Peanut (Miranda Hernandez)

29 Oct 2018 – Baby Things

Sunset over the Pacific 1 - Feature

26 Feb 2018 – Nuclear Bomb Part 2

Miranda on the California coast (Synch Media)

21 Jun 2018 – The After

Matthiola flowers on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

26 Sep 2018 – Dear Grace

18 March 2021 – What I Wish You Knew

26 March 2021 – Landscape

A Letter from the In-Between (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda staring off into the distance (Synch Media)

28 Jul 2018 – A Letter from the In-Between

Chalk drawings on the sidewalk (Miranda Hernandez)

18 Mar 2018 – Someone Else’s Birthday

Memories (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda on the California coast at sunset (Synch Media)

18 Feb 2018 – Memories

Pinecrest Lake 1 - Feature

26 Feb 2018 – The Nuclear Bomb

Title: A Letter to My Fellow Bereaved | overlaid on an image of the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

18 Feb 2018 – I Love You

24 March 2021 – The One I Avoided Last Time

North Star Resort - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Flight

20 March 2021 – The Absence of Memory

Julia Pfeiffer Burns Plant1 - Feature

7 Feb 2018 – Tests

Amy's collar (Miranda Hernandez)

12 Sep 2018 – Three Dishes

Explore more of Adrian's Elephant

Scroll to Top