grief was that day of gentle winter breezes, pastel swan boats, gulls in flight, laughter all around, and stars projected on a dome-shaped ceiling—all wrapped up by going home with a heavy realization and yet another frustrated heart
grief was the random notes found in my phone, mentioning who was out of sight yet still in mind, both in between and at the end of even those seemingly fun and amazing days
grief was finding myself on a toilet, sobbing after a day well spent at the park
grief was smoke from the past, wounds lingering from long ago at home, tied to a figure still alive yet always absent, as I spoke of it in tears
grief was the dreamlike weekend followed by the night of me stepping out of the car with my mind processing what I had just been told, it just ended up going blank
grief was telling the kids during that class that the tears were just from yawning too much
grief was watching the clouds from the window seat, realizing I had to leave the life I fell in love with, as the cost of a limbo I was both put into and inevitably remained stuck in myself
grief was all those turns of events leading to the final moment of staring at the ceiling, hearing such deafening silence after hanging up the call that casual Tuesday night
grief was singing my heart out at the karaoke on a New Year's Eve, before finding myself suddenly bursting into tears in the middle of all the fun
grief was finding myself looking through the same lens I ended up being viewed from, and tragically agreeing with what they must be seeing, and also hating it
grief was being home, but not feeling like home
grief was being on a trip, soaked in the sun, watching people enjoy the beach, then opening my notes app to write about the people I miss and the place I'd rather be
grief was the heavy heart that came after choosing faith over the desired fate
grief was no longer knowing what day it was, nor if it was daytime or nighttime
grief was finding myself resorting to medication
grief was finding myself hyped up once again, only to end up having all the unresolved internal issues manifest in absurd, self-sabotaging choice in certain relationship
grief was seeing everything I had seen as a child happening again, only this time, as an adult, in the same footsteps
grief was once the fire and calling, that gradually turned into questions, doubts, and an internal tug-of-war between faith and mistrust
grief was eventually getting triggered by positive quotes and finding home in dark algorithms instead
grief was that letter to self that ended up on such a tragic note
grief was having to watch some leave, one by one, including myself
grief was asking, "where did my old self go?"
grief was grieving the 'me' I could have been if it weren't for the way life sometimes is
grief was the smiles that didn't reach the corners of my mouth
grief was those dead eyes without any light
grief was merely existing and not at all, living
grief was the ghosts of the past, apathy toward the present, and a lack of hope for the future
grief was those mornings I asked, "why did I have to have another one?"
grief was the instant burst of a bubble, thinking I had truly found some way through the maze, only to discover it was still a dead end I had reached
grief was all those turns of events, only to circle back to how it went wrong the first time and trigger a wound I was trying to heal from
grief was always knowing there'd be an ending, not just the way it did, and knowing I knew someone, only to be no longer sure if I really did
grief was that boiling stream of thoughts instantly scribbled in a note, confirming one unexpected thing for me—that's it, the very last straw
grief was the eruption of deep-seated, pent-up, and unheard anger, finally finding a way out of my system through that last straw, which served as an indicator for me to, this time, listen to myself
grief was finding myself doing that once again, just shortly after tragically doing so, but with a different yet equally unexpected person
grief was finding myself no longer having any choice but to pull all the triggers they had handed to me themselves
grief was the rage stemming from the various forms of disrespect and betrayal by those who were meant to be real with me, stand by me, and see through me, but who instead became just another name on the list of people who either took advantage of me or let me down
grief was all that rage from discovering that the very knives and kinds of games certain people had been warning me about, from others, were the same knives they had secretly been using against me and the similar games they, too, had been playing on me
grief was finding out that the very people I defend when they're not around are the very ones who defame me behind my back
grief was the pent-up rage that no longer revolves around the people who betrayed and took advantage of me, but rather towards myself for mainly betraying her, all in the process of tolerating and understanding them just to keep them
grief was the disillusionment of past memories and the shattered dreams of an imagined future with people I had ultimately chosen to walk away from
grief was reliving the same trauma I experienced as a child—facing yet another violation and feeling inadequately protected by the people I expected it from the most
grief was seeing a pattern in all the times I get to feel okay and finding myself feeling anxious instead of happy whenever that happens
grief was the words written in my devotional journals—this time, asking Him to no longer draw any near me
grief was reaching the point of seeing Him no longer for me, but against me
grief was walking into the store of my favorite merch, feeling the happiest, and leaving in tears, wishing I was with a certain person I know loves that merch too
grief was mourning all the people I thought they were and any genuineness they once had
grief is mourning the people I know they are inside and the genuineness that truly exists in them
grief is the soft rain that falls after the storm of anger has passed
grief is where all the anger stems from—pain
grief is finding fragments of some people in the chords of a song, trinkets tucked away, relics from the past, and the spaces they once filled—each familiar corner of the same world we once shared
grief is their remnants, found at the back of my mind, that, after all, linger in the corners of my heart
grief is the inevitable sadness that comes after walking away from anything or anyone we've ever loved, including the selves we've ever been
grief is the heavy heart that comes from all kinds of goodbyes—the sudden, the gradual, the clean, the unfinished, the heart-stirring, and even the horrible ones
grief comes in many forms, creeping or crushing in, both when it's expected and when it isn't
grief is coming to terms with the fact that the deeper the love, the deeper the pain it leaves you with
grief is the remains of any love we once had
grief is the bittersweet testament to our capacity for love and the depth of how we've experienced it
grief is something that says "at least in this lifetime, as painful as it is now, at least… at least I am capable of and experienced such love"
