Man in the mirror

Who am I anymore?

I look in the mirror.

Same face.

Same eyes.

But I don't know the man looking back.

The person I was died with Ryan.

I was driven.

I was engaging.

I laughed easily.

I showed up every day, without question.

Now I'm short with people who don't deserve it.

I cancel plans.

I leave texts unanswered.

I sit in silence... because talking takes more than I have.

People are waiting for me to get back to normal.

That man is gone.

He lived in a world where Ryan was still in it.

For 22 years I was Dad. That was who I was.

You can't go back to that... when that life included him.

I'm harder now.

More closed off.

I don't trust good things to last. I've seen that they don't.

Tired in a way sleep doesn't touch.

Angry with nothing to aim at.

Sad with no end date.

And the worst part... I don't like who I've become.

I'm not only grieving Ryan.

I'm grieving me.

The man who could be happy without guilt.

Who had energy.

Who had hope.

Maybe this is who I am now.

Harder and softer at the same time.

Not surviving. Existing.

Somewhere in between.

Unrecognizable... even to myself.

Nobody tells you grief does this.

It doesn't just take the one you love.

It takes who you were too.

If that's where you are... you're not alone.