The Shadow

My cousin died on Tuesday. A brilliant man riddled by years of addiction and mental illness, he was just two weeks shy of his 30th birthday. I think I’ve been dreading that call for years now, watching him from a distance unravel across the internet, praying for my Aunt and Uncle, who did every last thing that a parent could to save their child. But for the grace of god go I, in real time.

There’s a sound, that regardless of the age of the child, be it 8 days, 26 years, 50 years… a common sound of a parent who has found out their heart has shattered outside of their chest. It wakes me up out of my sleep now. Hamilton Movie needed a trigger warning, Eliza shrieked so perfectly. The thought that I may one day be that parent, or the thought of hearing it again, on a call, or in my family, it creates anxiety in me, a helpless rage that is both paralytic and frenetic.

I’ve always believed that love is the only thing, the great healer, but this week has shown me that sometimes love just isn’t enough  

Maybe that’s what I’m running from.