grief is a foreigner in my land. not very welcome as she is silent and longing. i know i must converse with her here, yet she does not respond. photos of my dreams flash and she turns them over as they will not come to be. she is way to calm, i feel at times, a tearing rage, momentary as it is. yet she sits calmly like a sitter waiting for a child to behave. grief is patient, allowing one to wallow in one’s sorrow, as long as it takes. how long does it take? no answer. I guess it is what it is.
i look around at the others here grieving. oddly everyone is different. different stages i guess, how can that be? no answer. they are who they are. i grieve for their loss. i cannot imagine their pain. it flashes across their faces, dims their eyes from time to time. i hurt for him, for her, for the lost.
in my head i know this fades. in my heart it cannot be imagined, the ending. numb, except for that pulsing ache at the center of me.
i grieve on.