The memory of loss – of things once held dear now gone – drag across the soul as a jagged edge of glass across flesh.
Yet, we move on. We move on and keep living because we have no other choice.
Hurt as it will.
They say time heals all wounds and indeed it does but the sting of sorrow, of regret, of loss always remains. Always lingering in the shadows until something reminds us of what once was – and then it all comes rushing back tearing open the scars, ripping at our soul.
We pull up our sleeves, grab the broom we keep tucked away in that dark closet inside our brain then brush those negative thoughts and memories back under the carpet where they will stay, for now.
Out of sight but not entirely out of mind.
And then we move on.