The Lonely Road


It seems so hopeless and you need hope, as without hope there is only darkness. A darkness that tightens my chest so much that a mere breath causes more pain, more hurt. The loss won’t leave me, why won’t it leave me?

I need to let go, move forward and find a way to live my life without her. I can’t fix this overnight; love isn’t logical. That bond, the bond of a child to their mother; there is nothing stronger. The pull to wallow in despair is great, I want to allow it to take me, however I fight to try to do this by myself. I don’t allow those people close to me to support me. They want to support me so much; it pains them to see my grief, that anguish and yet they feel helpless as I continually push them away. I’m too scared to let them in. Nobody should share this pain, it’s something I can’t bear to experience, yet I know I must.

The road is so long, lonely and empty. Some days I can visualise the road ending; the moment can last a whole day or even longer. Things happen, I make decisions, the simple little things that allow life to move forward. It’s those strange days when the tightness returns; it hurts so much. Such a huge presence that I’ll never see again. Why? Why taken away so soon? I question everything. I ask myself that question that nobody who’s experienced such loss dares repeat aloud in case of what others may think – why me?

I’m afraid to cry in case I never stop.

On these strange days I have a few short moments of clarity and in that fleeting snatch of normality I can make a very big decision, something that will help me to reach the end of that road. I can’t explain why it will, and when the darkness returns, I never question my decision again. Not like the small insignificant decisions, which I repeatedly question and change.

No, the decision’s been made and I stick to it – is this progress or inherited stubbornness?

Yet those I’ve pushed away decide to finally give me my space. Why? I need to cry on their shoulders. I need it now more than ever. I never wanted to push them away – did I?

The confusion returns; which loss am I grieving for? The one I can change and is my future, or the one I can’t, yet will stay with me forever?

Only when I reach the end of that road, will I know if I truly can change this latest loss, and although it hurts so much to admit it, this is a journey I must now face alone.

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About Nick Lennon-Barrett

Originally from North-West, England, moving to London as an adult and carving out a career as an HR and L&D professional. The writing bug was always there as a child, yet it wasn't until my 30s that I finally did something about it. The joy of working in HR is that you're never short of character inspiration! I'm an enthusiast of both crime and comedy fiction so when I decided to write my first novel my aim was to combine these two genres tackling topical issues in a dark comedy murder mystery. This was the start of the DCI Fenton Murder Trilogy.
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