When all you want to do is throw some damn friggin rocks into the river until your arm falls off and your grief is spent, but you can't reach them. You see them at the bottom of the icy hill down by the river's edge. You can SEE them. They are right there! Good solid ones too. Ones made for throwing.
However, if you try to get to them you have a 95% change of falling tumbling breaking your neck leaving you also dead, which wouldn't resolve the issue now would it. You can only stand at the top of the hill with the bitter wind blowing in your face staring at the water that you need so desperately to be chucking stuff at with the rocks that you need which are just out of reach bawling your eyes out in shear frustration.
That is impotence.
And afterwards you catch your breath, feeling the leaden weight in your chest. Then all you want is to have your body wrapped up tightly in a big bear hug so you can sob into his shoulder and just let go and let it all out because you have been holding it in, but there is no one around. So you curl yourself into a tight ball on the cold bench wrapping your arms around yourself instead. You let the air bite your face because at least you are now feeling something. And you remember. You remember when you were at your lowest ebb and ready to give up and he was the one to squeeze you tight and pat your back saying "there, there. You'll be fine. You're strong! You'll make it through, you'll see" but HE is the one that is gone. One of the rocks. He was one of your rocks. And you lost touch with him. And now he is gone and it is too late to reconnect. too late.
After being emotionally paralyzed all morning, you FEEL. All of it is washing over you. All of the helplessness, and the guilt and the sadness and the rage and the grief and you cry even more until your face tingles and becomes numb from the wailing and you can't breathe. You can't do anything about it except let it happen, because your body needs this, because your mind needs this, because your heart needs this. Because YOU need this. You need to say goodbye.
I need to say goodbye.
Goodbye Eric. Thank you for coming into my life.