I Don’t Miss You, I Mourn You

I mourn you like you’re dead.

I am sad about the person you used to be, I am upset that person doesn’t exist anymore. I gave myself time, but the sadness stays like a security blanket; if I am only sad, I cannot be so angry. If I lie to myself, I can believe you’re gone and I can only be haunted by your ghost. I am haunted by the shell of you who walks through this waking world, numb and cold.

I mourn you like you died because that’s easier to process.

I cry for you in my dreams, but in my waking moments when you cross my mind, I remember it’s not real—you are still here. Some version of you. I water my feelings down, I give them time to move on. I give myself time, but the anger never leaves. How could I be so misunderstood and so seen at the same time?

The anger is my friend—I hug it tightly when no one can see. I put my security blanket away, find my friend, and I am ready to face anything. My friend leaves and I search for my security blanket. I hold it and love it. I know I’ll have to put it away again, but for now it is my comfort.

I mourn you, not miss you.

I lie to myself over again and I believe. I decide to put it all away, to tell my friend to move away and get a new blanket.

I mourn for you, about you.

I tell myself you are going to change. I move on because I know when I’m lying to myself, even if I chose to believe it. I give myself time, but there’s never enough. I give myself space, but my feelings are too big for any space and I find myself alone with them all over again.

I mourn for the person I used to be. I mourn for the world I thought I lived in. I mourn for the missed moments and the good ones that ended too quickly. I mourn for who we once were. I mourn for who I once was.

About the author

Mother, writer, educator

Follow Krista Rae on Instagram or read more articles from Krista Rae on Thought Catalog. Learn more about Thought Catalog and our writers on our about page.