The Forgotten

I’ve been there for the birth of love, my own, but I’m not usually privileged to be there at the birth of others. I will more than likely be informed that this has taken place and eventually have the honor of getting acquainted with the object of affection.

It is however completely different when said love dies. I seem to attract front row, center seating, without ever having to stand in line to purchase my ticket.

I have been privy to 2 (count them folks 2) demises in the last 6 months. And it is just not pretty.

I’ve often wondered why civility goes out the window when love does. You were friends before you became lovers why can’t that courtesy be extended to the end of the love affair?

So much hair pulling and jumping about.

The tears spilt , the sleepless nights, the weight loss (not such a bad thing now and then), the hand holding, tissue blowing these are all things that accompany the loss of the one person you thought would be there forever and has now walked away and left devastation and wreckage in their wake. Nothing however compares to the the Pain. The heart wrenching , physical in your gut pain that accompanies the end.

And I’ve often thought that if like in childbirth you had pain in the beginning then maybe we would be more apt to treasure the love we find because the hard part was over all we would then have to do is nurture and cherish said love.

I wish there was something I could say or do to take it all away but alas I am but a mere spectator.

The Forgotten


Lakewood, United States

  • Artist


love gone

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.