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My Oldest Grandbaby Miles Away

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I wrote this when my First and now oldest Grandchild moved out of State to live with his Father, he was 4 and a half. He was and is the only boy, I also have 2 Granddaughters. I see them. All the blessed time. I haven’t seen him since May of this year (‘08) and because of a situation I will elaborate on in another entry, I cannot and have not spoken to him since then. Only heard his sweet, angelic voice over my Daughters’ cell phone speaker.
I wrote this freethought (what I call it; you’ll soon pick up that I don’t give a whoopsie about ‘rules’ and ‘structure’ when it comes to my writing.)

11/18/2007 12:33 am
My heart is breaking. I just want my heart to stop hurting and my head to stop talking… It feels like I’m screaming in my head and it won’t stop, (its constant, constant, waking, sleeping, thinking, not thinking…screaming, screaming, screaming like background music, a soundtrack that has no beginning, no end, no pauses, just goes on and on) and at the same time I’m trying to convince myself that everything is okay and calm & reassure myself. But I can’t let it do that because what if that’s NOT what D* feels? I can’t not feel upset if he’s upset, that would be betraying his heart and my heart and loyalty and love to him. Betraying my blood. My soul. So even if my heart stopped hurting and my head stopped the talking and screaming, maybe that would be more disturbing to me. I would be not being vigilant for him and his feelings… does that make sense? I have to feel what he feels, or I’m evil and bad and don’t love him like I should.
I have cried every day. I cried before he was even gone. Three days before. I woke up in the middle of the night and just lost it. I couldn’t wake J* up, I woke C* up but that just upset her, I almost even called my mom at almost 2am! I couldn’t just deal with it on my own like I usually can.
My heart feels like its being ripped out, cut out, stolen, gouged, torn at, something, I don’t know. It hurts so strangely from what I have felt before, Its like its burning and I can’t put anything on it to put it out! How horrible and evil and wicked and torturous this feeling is! THIS IS HELL. Hell is not a place, its THIS FEELING! I would rather be betrayed a thousand times by a man than have this pain in my heart and soul and under my flesh tightening around every cell of me and strangling me.
I know one thing, even death would not take this kind of pain away.
Not even death would take it.
I love you, D*****. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Addendum:
12/3/2008
It’s been over a year since I wrote this. Since he left.
It’s still so true, every word.
Yes, it has lowered in intensity so it’s not at the front of my brain blinding out everything else, but it’s there still, fist pounding, screaming, nail clawing at the back of my eyes almost, it’s just that I’ve learned how to drown it out with outside distractions. Film, audio, scent, alcohol, others’ voices. My own voice. In still and silence of Night, my own voice is at once my worst enemy and best friend.
As usual.

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