Is something wrong with me?

I asked the question over and over and over in the days and weeks and months since the death of my Grandparents. They happened close together. Not quite as close as Noah and Allie but they were the Noah and Allie of my life. They had been together, fought through turmoil and pain and struggle and come out on top with love in their hearts for each of other that was stronger than ever before and got stronger by the minute.

Is there something wrong with me?

I asked the question when my Mum phoned me in tears with the words "he's gone" and all I could say was "Oh, okay" because I didn't feel anything and nothing about it felt real. It didn't feel real when I got to the nursing home and saw my Mum and Nan trying to comfort each other. It didn't feel real days later when his things were all packed up.

Is there something wrong with me?

I asked the question when I heard it together all the way through the funeral, through all the readings and poems and songs, and even as they read out the tribute I had written for him. Even as the words /Though you walk through the dark, hold your head up high/ rang out through the small chapel, I still was stoic and unemotional.

There's nothing wrong with me.

I assumed when the tears finally came because she smiled at me. But that was the wrong reason to be crying, wasn't it? Surely I should be crying because a major part of my life was now being burnt not because someone I have so many mixed feelings for looked at me with an expression that says 'I don't hate you'.

There's nothing wrong with me.

I realised as we got the phone call saying my Nan was unresponsive and we rang for a friend who drives to take us to the home and got there too late. I cried then, I think, I don't properly remember. I remember my Mum in so many tears and me hiding from the room because I couldn't bear to see that. I remember the hugs and the tissues. I must've cried because I got given a tissue.

Is there something wrong with me?

I was still asking the question as I wrote the tribute for my Nan and attended the meetings to organise the funeral. This time I was there for Mum because there was no one else to help here. I didn't cry anymore. Though I took some time off work and pretty much took to my bed. Around this time, I realised my boyfriend and I were slipping but neither of us were making the right grab to stay.

Is there something wrong with me?

I asked the question at the funeral when the father got the year wrong. It's 1947 not 1948. I thought I had fucked up the tribute but it was his mistake not mine. I cried and cried and cried because I felt like I'd let them down. I lost it, I was a mess at those words, but Ii got it together and I sang and I listened to tribute and poem and reading and song.

Is there something wrong with me?

Guilt flooded through me and I was sure I must be broken as just six days after the funeral, my job was taken from me. There said I was unreliable, I said I was ill and grieving but it wasn't enough. I cried and cried and cried as the job I love was torn away and the team leader I adore was forced to do it to me. I hid in a corner and cried and didn't want to leave and never wanted to return.

Is there something wrong with me?

I was crying for all the wrong reasons as after losing my job, my boyfriend dumped me. Well we called it a mutual decision but it was his. He said Ii needed time to get myself together and not having a job would help with that. And as he said 'we both know what is coming' the tears fell down my face and he hugged me and I wanted to kiss him, I'd been so close to the first 'I love you' but he had been thinking of leaving instead.

Is there something wrong with me?

Weeks passed and I grieved, I grieved for the job I adore and lost and missed, the friends and family that had come with that. All the people I never saw anymore, all the people who I didn't know how to reach out to. I grieved for the relationship that had hardly been and yet had meant so much to me. I grieved for its loss and my inability to be friends with him because I didn't know how to talk to him. I grieved for what had been and what could've been and what perhaps should never have been. And yet I was left with my wondering, at what point did I grieve for them?

Is there something wrong with me?

I cried so much in the days and weeks and months that have passed since my Grandparents death. I cried for my job, my boyfriend, my friends, I cried for my health that's bringing me down. I cried for it all but mostly myself and at no point have I stopped and thought there is nothing wrong with me as I cry for all the wrong reasons.

Is there something wrong with me?

My Mum is a mess, she lost both her parents within eight weeks of each other and her day to day being have been thrown out of whack, she doesn't know what to do or who to even be anymore. So many times, I find her curled up and crying and clinging to their teddies. She's grieving, she misses them, she long for them back. I don't? I miss them of course, but I know they're not in pain. The god and the heaven I no longer believe in is holding them painless and together. And I want to know what's wrong with me as I can't seem to cry for their loss.