Grief is a sneaky bitch
The warmth of the sunlight is touching my face, I can smell the first flowers of the year and the birds are singing a melody of hope. In these moments I believe, I can actually make it. That life has something positive for me that needs to be explored – despite the cold black emptiness within my heart. This icecold horror that nests within my core is a constant reminder that my life as I knew it, is over. Forever.
‘Forever’, echoes the creepy darkness while releasing a good portion of hopelessness. I loved my life. I didn’t want anything to change. All of this happened to me unplanned, unwanted, unexpected. But it cannot be reversed. My life – as it used to be – is gone. But the new life isn’t designed yet. I am in between. And I feel the overwhelming loss without having a sense for the new.
People are passing by. Laughing friends, chatting couples and playing kids. It feels so unreal that they cannot see my despair. I am almost dying on this bench – and yet, to them I am just someone sitting in the park enjoying the first days of spring.
These are the moments, when I need to turn my face back to the sun. Breathe. Concentrate. Stay in the here and now. Although I am grieving about the past and I have no idea about the future, there is still the present. And this very present moment on my bench … in the sun … is … actually … quite okay.
I start smiling. I have conquered this wave of grief. Again. Like so many times before. I am proud of myself.
Sleep well, sneaky bitch.