Refill, Spill, Drain and What Remains

When someone leaves, it's like they've poured out a glass of water and left. But the presence of an empty glass presses down on me. The silence of it screaming, begging to be set free. So I try to refill it with other stuff. Along with the contents of other cups. I dump and I fill, but nothing spills. The glass empties out. Over and over again I refill. Over and over again it doesn't spill. It just empties out. 

And with that I wonder what I can do. How I can fill a glass that is determined to stay dry. 

So I ask;

“Fill up again. Please. So you don’t gather dust and I grow to forget you. I knew this day would come, but the time passed too quickly, and now I’m stuck with this glass, and the silence it carries within. So please come back. Please refill, so the silence empties out.”

And to that the glass said,

“I'm not meant to hold anything anymore. No matter what you try to fill my cup with, I'm afraid it will never fill. You're trying to do something you can't, and it's consuming you whole. You may fill me with your feelings, all that you feel now that I have left. But I am not meant to be fixed because I am not broken. I see that me leaving has cracked you in places in and outside of you, but that... that can be fixed. It is not your time to empty out. Look at the other glasses that surround you. Look at how they gleam in your presence. Fill them with love as they do for you. I may be gone, but they are not. Do not kill yourself trying to bring me back. Do not get lost in your loss. Enjoy everything and everyone around you, drink in every moment. Do as I cannot. Live fully.”

With those words I came to understand. I know and feel what it’s like to lose, and then to be lost. But I know I will still try, even though I shouldn't. Even though it won't do much. Because although I know the outcome, I will always hope to change something irreversible. To move something immovable. I know nothing will change until I accept what I’ve lost, and find my way back. Not necessarily to where I was, but to a place where grief is understood and nurtured into something beautiful.