Last month I lost something.
It was ...
I've heard of others who have lost, and I always wondered how I would react. It was different than I thought and yet - the same.
Hoped it wasn't true.
But it was.
How could I miss something that I had only 6 weeks?
How do you go on knowing what was lost?
Why is grieving so hard and plaguing me still?
Because before I knew, I loved.
I was thrilled.
Now to go on seems unfair; disloyal. To start over feels like a betrayal to this memory.
But life goes on. It has to. And all we can do is anticipate our first meeting in another place.
On the Myth of Balance
12 hours ago