[17] the aftermath of grief
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grief might come on a random Thursday while driving on an empty highway. it appear so sudden like a wave against the rocks, strong like a wind blowing in the field with nothing against it. it's a free flow emotion that build up, one by one, stack by stack until it erupt with no prior warning. the aftermath of grief is cruel. nothing can stop it until you have to stop the car by the roadside and soak in it. the aftermath of grief is lonely because when it happen, usually when we are alone, even if when we are in public, the grief is alone. it might be the moment of weakness that disguise itself as a sturdy wall, something people say about you've been strong enough to let it burst. grief is a proof of love. the aftermath is realizing that time move, but it never pass. may we find comfort in making space for it to live within us.
the aftermath of losing,
reesa