There is no one at the door now
Everything is suddenly very silent. It hurts my ears. And, I don’t know how to get past this. I’ve lost those whom I loved before. I’ve lost many. But I seem to have forgotten how I got through that grief. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really did. Maybe I didn’t get rid of it at all. Maybe life just grew around it. This time feels similar. Not because I don’t feel it, but because there has been so much happening that I couldn’t just curl up in bed and cry. I had to move. I had to keep going. That’s what I hate about being an adult. You never seem to get enough time to fully lament what deserves to be lamented. I don’t even know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Grief comes in fragments. When I’m at home, busy with things, it’s easy not to think about it. Going out is easier. You can stay distracted. But coming back home is the hardest part, because the welcome that used to be there is gone. It’s been a week. And this week has been completely silent. We used to...
