What a lonesome affair grief is. So uniquely mine and so tangible as it hangs around the air I breathe. Waves after waves of hurt, loneliness, anger, guilt, fear and feelings of betrayal. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Fight for your family. Think of the kids. Go home for the sake of your family. She's with God now.
Well meant words and I know they're true and I'm so, so sorry that all I hear is that everything I feel isn't valid. Always been a zero-sum game.
What if I don't want to be fucking strong? What if I can't be strong? What if it took every fibre of my being to care even just an ounce and I wish I were dead? How do I explain that nothing makes sense, that my world literally spins, that it's as though my heart is being stomped upon endlessly and I don't know how I will ever learn to trust and feel safe enough to break ever again? That the only place I've ever felt loved and safe was in her embrace? That I didn't just lose my aunt, but my best friend, my hero and the one thing I ever looked forward to in life? That I feel great remorse in being cheated of a choice to be with her in her last moments in life? That I really want to share this grief and heal because I really can't do this on my own but it's as though there's a rock upon my soul and I push against it but it doesn't move an inch? How do I explain that I really do feel that I could just die from this heartache and from trying this hard?
I need someone to fight for me just this once. What a lonesome affair it is to write.
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