Have you ever watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2? At the very end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Voldemort battle. They jump of a tower at the school and during the sequence you can see the two merging into one another. It’s a really beautiful part of cinematography, but I’ll get back to that part in a second. When they both finally get back on the group, they start the real fight. *An Obvious Spoiler Alert* Harry’s good magic eventually beats out the evil. In the books Voldemort just dies and his body hits the ground, but in the movie he kind of crumbles and turns to ask then floats away. I think they did it that way in the movie because it ‘looked’ better. Right now, I’m thankful they did it that way…

I keep saying I feel like I’m stuck in my body. Maybe I’ve written about it here too, but I know I say it quite frequently. It didn’t really hit me to what I meant until Anthony and I re-watched the series again. At first I was bothered because it looked like how I imagine cremation going, but then it really represented what I keep saying. I don’t think I’m evil or anything, but gosh if it was that easy to just crumble up and be free. My insides feel like they continuously are burning and turning to ash. It hurts to be inside my body and the part where his face sinks in and breaks is how I feel. Actually, I think if I read or heard anyone explain that they feel like they’re movie Voldemort dying, I’d be concerned. But in that moment, it just made sense. It looked like relief.

Pain and grief effing suck.

When Harry and Voldemort are blending into each others bodies, I can just see that dance with grief there. Even when it’s not the completely merged with my day, it’s right there. Then when it gets really rough, it just takes over. My body is just in a constant battle of grief and life and trying to heal. It’s so exhausting. Recalling that scene now, I feel like they’re just screaming and literally ripping apart at their heads. Just trying to separate themselves from each other. That scream just coming from their cores and it’s so deep and loud. I know it well.

It’s so hard to think that the only way I’ll ever get to feel relief is to just burn and turn to ash. Not everyday feels like that, but nights like this where I can’t sleep and nothing is comforting me I don’t a better way to explain how to combat this. Life is so exhausting. It is hard even when things are good, unbearable when your child dies. You’re constantly gasping for air and you’re so tired from treading in the sea of grief. Then when it comes to a good day and you feel like you’re going to be fine, you’re go back deeper than when you started. I can honestly say there’s no good in this world in my eyes since Jensen has died. How can there be light in a place where babies die?

I asked those questions two days ago and answered with trusting in the plan laid out for you. To not look towards the endgame, but to ’embrace,’ more like endure, the journey. Yet, here I am and my mind is skipping to the endgame. I also said I don’t think this pain ever ends, we just learn how to live with it.

So does it end when we die?

When I die and hopefully go to heaven and see Jensen again, will this pain be erased? In heaven there shouldn’t be pain or this longing. It’s supposed to be complete paradise with no darkness and happiness. We are in our best forms and it’s grand. If we know this to be true, how does our bodies let us stay in them? Why aren’t our souls jumping out to go to heaven? Why would they choose to stay in this painful and dark place? I’m sure for the journey and the lessons we’re supposed to learn, but I feel like it would be so hard to choose that. I could imagine right now, my soul is hurting so much, why wouldn’t my body just crumble and everything inside be released? All of this would end, yet I’m still here.

These are thee questions we all want answers to, but we don’t have them. We won’t have them till we’re ready. It still doesn’t make any of this fair. It makes it a little bearable knowing Jensen’s in this paradise, getting it ready for when I join him. Many years from now. I don’t know though. My heart is just hurting as to why I’m being taught this lesson. How can a baby dying be justified in anyone’s mind? It’s not and it will never be. I’ll try to trust in this process, but I will always disagree with his death. It could have been taught in another way. No one can tell me straight-faced that this is the for the best. If you do think that, let me know what child you would put up for God to take.

Here my insides are feeling like Voldemort’s ashes going up. Like my body is coughing them up from my weeping. It’s trying to escape, but I’m still here. Learning. Loving. Trying to do the best I can for him.