“I miss Greg, I miss my best friend.

I miss having my love reciprocated.

I miss being blissfully happy.

I miss not having to work at simply surviving.

I miss feeling safe.

I miss feeling special.

I miss being someone’s person, being Greg’s person.”

When I think about the phrase “picking up the pieces” …

My life shattered into a million pieces

Often times

I feel as though I pick one up and look at it

With this blank stare on my face,

As I am looking it over

Like it is a foreign object speaking a foreign language

That I have no understanding of

There is this glazed, haze expression on my face,

And a question of Why?,

Why did this happen?

Why is my life different than a normal person’s?

Why did I lose the love of my life?

Why am I the one to pick up the pieces?

Which piece goes first, comes next?

There are so many. :(

Why am I left behind, Greg was the strong one, not me.

And I Thought I Loved You Then My Love.


All Material Copyright @ 2010-2012 Greggies Widow

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