The Two Lives of Lydia Bird

by Josie Silver

That’s the deal we make when we love someone, isn’t it? Somewhere along the path one person is always going to have to find a way to carry on without the other.

The thing about losing the love of your life is that you get to make up what would have happened afterward. You’re entitled to dream that all of your tomorrows would have been perfect, because you loved him so much, you’re allowed to flex and bend every situation in your head so he’d say and do all of the right things. Your love story never really ends, because your brain paints him into every photograph and he’s there beside you on all of your special days.

The human brain is wired to cope with grief. It knows even as we fall into unfathomably dark places, there will be light again, and if we just keep moving forward in one brave straight line, however slowly, we’ll find our way back again.

You don’t get over losing someone you love in six months or two years or twenty, but you do have to find a way to carry on living without feeling as if everything that comes afterward is second best. Some people walk up mountains, others throw themselves out of planes. Everyone has to find their own way back, and if they’re lucky they’ll have people who love them to hold their hand.