Recently I’ve come to realize that one of the purest emotions that can be captured on film (in my opinion) is not so simply described in words. When someone is feeling the weight of a loss their whole entire body shows it when their words cannot even escape their throats. In some cases, you can only see it on film if you’ve felt it in person. If you’ve been there- love one abandoned earth too soon -unless you really have gone without the familiar warmth of your best friend’s hand or your son’s arms wrapping around your neck, you never can really understand the emotion in the picture.
I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of a loss. They can be simple. I can mourn the loss of my favorite sweatpants that can’t be found (seriously, I’ve looked everywhere) or I can deteriorate in the loss of that huge championship game, but…those are just things. Describing a loss gets much more complicated when you’re talking about a person.
A father can lose a child at the mall. That loss is mixed, mostly, with fear.
A girl can lose her beloved boyfriend who seemed to love her too fully for what she could give. That loss is accompanied by guilt and self doubt.
A mother can lose her son to war as if it’s more important than a relationship with the one who gave him life. That loss…now, that loss I can’t seem to fathom. That’s a loss that has to come with such overwhelming helplessness. That’s a loss that’s impossible to feel unless you’ve been there.
I’ve seen it on someone’s face. I’ve witnessed fallen shoulders that only indicate fallen hearts and lost hope and when you lose hope, you tend to lose everything else. Without hope, happiness becomes impossible and that creates a lost soul. As soon as you lose your head, your mind is sure to follow.
I’ve lost myself before, from time to time. When I was younger my mom would find me buried in blankets of negativity and return me to the positivity I grew up with. Once, a girlfriend found my heart before I showed it to her only to return me single from my lost state of “in a relationship.” I’ve watched friends get lost in pills for a night they don’t remember because not remembering is better than feeling their amount of pain.
It’s painful: loss.
You never know just how to prepare.
It can be big.
It can be small.
But regardless, loss is relatively unexplainable.