Good Mourning?

I am mourning and, oh, does it hurt. I'm not entirely sure the extent of what I'm mourning yet, but I believe that it's a mixture of mourning my stolen childhood and those lost years, the lost opportunities, and the lost relationships. The "if only" stuff...

I find my chest aches and it feels like my heart is in a knot. The person I mourn...is me.

I think of my childhood...not the terrible abuse years, but the good, fun, clean, innocent years. I've seen pictures of me then and the radiance in my smile was truly that of an innocent child. In that face I see the hopes and dreams, the wants and the possibilities that the child in the picture didn't even comprehend yet.

And thinking of that face causes me to mourn.

I miss that child...I miss that Me. I actually hate the loss of him more than I hate the "killers" of him. I need that Me...I want that Me...how do you move on without him? He (Me) was a great kid...full of laughter, absolutely overflowing with love and affection. Dreams poured out of him (me) at an unbelievable pace...and they were going to happen! They were true and unhindered! They were the way life was going to be.

I know I mourn him when I look at my face now and think of the differences. It's not age that makes us different, although certainly that is there. No, it's the slight crease or wrinkle that I know is from pain. It's the eyes...the eyes tell such a big story. There was a light in him (young me) that I miss...and I mourn.

God, how I miss him (me). Lord, how I hurt for him (me).