Grasping

Loss.
It's such a simple word; Four letters, one vowel, three consonants. Yet it contains so much fear, so much pain. Addictions are born--television shows, alcohol, sex-- I'll do anything to escape. Prescription pills are swallowed-- for this agony, this hole in me-- is all caused by a chemical imbalance, right? Questions are asked, demanded, and pleaded from God—who else could be to blame?

As a human, I've experienced loss enough to fear the word with a complex.
I've had sisterly friendships turn to ash over misunderstandings and unspoken hurts.
Grandparents taken from the slow deterioration that comes with a lived life, others lost to battles with cancer, and another through unyielding depression, ultimately won over with a shotgun. Three years ago, my best friend was murdered.
I've lived loss. I know the stages as if I were an actress following a script.
And while every bit has molded me into who I am today, into the safety I know the Lord to be, and though I've learned from every ending, every goodbye, and lost chance—

I'm still left with scars..and the fear of a simple word.