Loss

In my life I've lost many people. Yet only one person have I lost to death. My earliest losses, of course, were that of my biological parents. Followed by my adoptive parents and brother, then the many friends and foster parents I grew close to while I was in the system. I'm still struggling to understand how this has effected me, this life of loss. I know that I have become controlling, distrusting and always holding back. Very few people know "the real me". Others see me as aloof and distant. Perhaps they believe that I think I'm better than them. It's only a shield. And I'm trying to take it down. I long for friendships like the ones I had as a child, yet I'm afraid to have them. Because, in my mind, everybody leaves someday.
Eventually I hope to prove myself wrong. I still have my husband and I know he loves me. Just as I know my daughter does and my son is learning to. Other family (the biological family I reunited with at the age of eighteen) still stands by me. I want to believe that they will not go away but lingering in my mind is the knowledge that, even if they don't choose to leave, we all die someday.