Grief is...

Grief is many things. This is some of what it is for me.

Grief is staring out at the sea on the beach I last visited with her and suddenly crying because I don’t feel I’m doing this grief thing properly.

Grief is wondering why I’m sort of ok and not collapsed on my bed wailing with tears like I did that time an ex broke up with me.

It’s being told that grief is a hole inside you that stays the same size but your life grows around it and you learn how to carry it. But instead, it feels like the one ring, a burden that grows heavier every day that I get further away from her.

Grief is that hole inside you, with raw sore edges that sometimes feel so painful you can’t breathe.

Grief is knowing that the hole will never be gone.

Grief is a too-big awkwardly-shaped box that I have to carry everywhere but I have to keep putting aside to function every day before picking it up again.

Grief is being a misshapen jigsaw piece that no longer fits in the space of my old life.

Grief is being hit by random memories that can be triggered by anything, wondering when these moments will stop and hoping they never do.

Grief is finally feeling adulthood settle on your shoulders and knowing there is no escape.

Grief is wondering if it’s ok to wear her old clothes and doing it anyway because it is somehow a small comfort.

Grief is looking into a potentially long future without her in it with terror. At the same time, it’s also not really believing she’s gone.

Grief is being ever so grateful for that week last summer when it was just us, laughing and opening our hearts. It’s knowing we’ll never have that again.

Grief is the blur of those final moments. My mind trying to protect me from the trauma.

Grief is a locked door I have to make conscious efforts to open. It’s not always having the courage to open it.

Grief is not feeling the closure they said the funeral would be. It’s not believing closure exists.

Grief is knowing you are not alone but knowing you still have to face it alone.

Grief is people not knowing what to say but trying anyway and even though they might get it wrong still finding comfort in it.

Grief is opening up to a stranger because in that moment you realise they understand.

Grief is wondering why I don’t feel normal and then remembering why.

Grief is acting normal and everyone and everything around you not knowing. It’s wondering who else is going through something similar.

Grief is hoping I dream of her as she was and failing to do so.

Grief is thinking of her more now than I did when she was here and feeling guilty for it.

Grief is living with the hard reality of death when before it was a distant abstract concept.

Grief is learning that I am stronger than I thought I was and knowing that’s because of her.

Grief is different for everyone. This is just how grief is for me.