Grief :: A Timeline

This is the second post in a new series on grief. For anyone in need, the comment section can be your safe place to express yourself and share your memories of loved ones past. Peace to you all. Xx.

It's been 25 days since you passed away - 27 if you're reading this on Wednesday. I don't know. I don't know why I'm still in a fog or why I can't wrap my mind around death or why I'm still crying. I went months without talking to you just because you were doing your thing, and I was doing mine. Towards the end, it wasn't even words being spoken, just smiles and hand holding and telling you I loved you. I don't know if it's the slow realization that I won't be able to do those things anymore or if it's the realization that I'm growing up and people I love very very dearly will leave this Earth sooner rather than later. I don't know.

It seems like everyone around me wants me to be fine again. As if my world hasn't come to a crashing halt of reality. I don't know how to let go when I'm not the one saying the final goodbye. I don't know how to say sorry or I love you or forgive me or miss you one more time when the person isn't there to at least listen to the words. I don't know. I want it to be over; the processing, the emotions, the confusion, the dreary head space of getting back into a rhythm. It's not going anywhere.

I want to be "me" again, though to tell you the truth, I never knew who "me" was, and isn't she always changing anyway?

People want me to be over it, they question why I'm down or low, why I still haven't moved on. They question my tears, my solitude, my wanting to love and find someone who loves me back.

I feel lonely. I feel alone even when I'm surrounded by all the love. I'm not ready for real life and clients and professionalism. I just want my new black sweatpants I bought to be comfortable and a book I've read 11 times.

They want me to be okay. I'm not. They want me to be healed. Is anyone ever? They want me to be strong. All I want to do is cry. I want someone to brush the hair off of my face, and tell me I'm enough just being me. Would I hear them? I tell myself, but sometimes I don't listen.

I'm having trouble processing this huge journey called life. It's fun and wild and beautiful and messy and chaotic and nothing I ever imagined it to be at this point in my life. I keep hearing you say, "I hope you live a good life". It's getting to me lately. Is this good? Is this how it's supposed to be right now?

It's been 25 days, and I am not better. I am not alright. And the only person who keeps telling me that's okay is myself.

This is the second post in a new series on grief. For anyone in need, the comment section can be your safe place to express yourself and share your memories of loved ones past. Peace to you all. xx.


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