Realisation

I went to the first session of counseling this afternoon and I can honestly say, don’t think I will be going back.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from it TBH, maybe I was hoping that by talking to her it would take the pain away or even bring him back. Stupid I know but you live in hope.

I sat there for an hour either talking rubbish or not being able to talk through the tears and snot, and then not being able to say what I wanted to say through the fear of crying again and not being able to stop. If it wasn’t the tears, snot or fear of speaking; we were sitting in silence and there is nothing that a hate more than awkward silences with strangers.

I did however walk away finally realising that no matter how much I talk about him or who I talk to him too; no matter how many memorial sites I set up for him or however many tears I shed for him, it will never bring him back. My little man is gone and there is nothing myself or anyone else can do about it.

I already know that as the years go by he will always remain a baby. Dying so young has somehow turned him into a ‘Peter Pan’ figure in my mind. He will always be my ‘what should have been boy’.

Crazy as this sounds; I worked out today that he would be turning 18 in 2027 and now all I can think about is that when that day comes, will I think of him as a young man or as a baby? Will I go out and buy him a grown up present or a soft toy still? Will the pain hurt just as much then as it does now?

What has hit me the most is that he will never get the chance to go to school; he will never go on to fall in love and get married, all the little things which Earth parents take for granted every day.

Being inside my body is all that he will ever know.

The pain of missing my Angel is currently worse than that of death itself.