Every Day I Lose
about grief, obsessions, & compulsions
You always thought I was a winner, always told me so at your kitchen table.
I savored telling you good news for this reason. You were inclined to believe I’d make it, and I was inclined to feed this undue, unwavering belief. If you thought I was good, maybe there was at least one part of me that wasn’t totally rotten.
But now that you’re gone, every day I lose.
I lose to the shadows, the things that don’t exist. I lose to the rituals, the loops I can’t bleach from my head.
I lose because I can’t get past the questions. I lose because I can’t change a thing by holding my breath and staying very still. I lose because it’s my right and because it’s what he said I’d do.
I lose to the sun; I lose to the moon. I lose because sometimes I even like to.
I wonder if you’ve seen it.
Do you watch me lose to the balcony smoke? Do you watch me lose with my face on the floor?
Do you watch me stay there all night? Do you watch me try to stop?
Do you watch me give in?
And do you think I’ve given up?
After reading this, I have so many questions.
I wonder how she is doing right now.
I want to give her a hug, and tell her it will be okay. But, I think I would be lying. And besides, I don't know her.
I wonder how I am the first person to comment—how can people move on from this without sitting with it—without saying anything?
I wonder if I am imagining the connection between her and Agata from Lapvona; I hear the echoes of powerlessness but the subject matter feels different.
I wonder who she lost, and if she still feels them watching.
I love how raw this piece is and the spectrum of emotion I feel as I'm reading it. Thank you for not sugar coating anything. I appreciate the depth and I am looking forward to your next piece.