The Lonely Castle 

It.

It leaves a hole.

It mercilessly rips a piece of your heart from you, leaving a gaping, throbbing, exposed hole.

Desperation and panic whisper in your ear, “You gotta cover it up. The hole must be filled.”

You fall to your knees and begin digging into the earth.

Bare hands.

Frantic.

You maniacally shovel in dirt.

Dirty fingernails, salty tears.

You shovel.

And shovel.

And shovel.

And shovel.

You spend all of your time shoveling unto the point of exhaustion, and then, you collapse. Tired muscles. Aching head. You fall asleep.

And you dream that you are whole again.

Time passes. And you awake.
Sleepy eyes, you see that there… it sits….

That fucking hole.

That’s when you realize:

Nothing will fill it.

Filling the hole is like wearing shoes two sizes too small or drastically changing your hair color. Filling the hole, makes you feel even less of yourself than you did before, when it was just you with a hole in your chest.

Grace and love whisper in your ear, “You have a choice.”
And so, you choose…

I’m not going to fill the hole any more.

And instead of filling it, you decide to build a fortress around it…A heavily guarded monument.

You fall to your knees and begin building.

Bricks, made of resilience.

The mortar is new identity.

Your rusty nails are filled with hope.

With all the strength you can muster, you build.

And build.

And build.

And build.

You spend all of your time building unto the point of exhaustion, and you collapse. Tired muscles. Aching head. You fall asleep.

And you dream that you are whole again.
Time passes. And you awake.
Sleepy eyes, you see that there… it sits…

A fucking castle.

Yes.

Your fortress is complete.

And you, with the master key, will open the front door.

You, with the only map, will navigate the catacombs.

You will visit that vulnerable spot, behind a secret door.

And you’ll reminisce who you were before and what cracked you open on a Friday afternoon.

You will honor the piece of you that was taken.

But you will never try and fill the hole again.

-Megan Bajorek

Author: 31 Main Street

Once upon a time, I was a happily married nursing student slash mother of three, documenting my schooling endeavors with a sense of humor. Life changed in three seconds. Now, I'm learning how to pick up the pieces, while managing grief and raising babies. Follow me on Social Media: Facebook: www.facebook.com/31MainStreet Instagram: @31mainstreet Twitter: @megglerock

One thought on “The Lonely Castle ”

  1. I understand, and wish I could take your pain away.But I can`t, I`m sorry.The loss is too great and no one will ever take his place.

    Like

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