You don’t really “get” it. You don’t understand it. You don’t catch it. You can’t stop it.
It just happens. And honestly? It sucks.
Grief has been a whirlwind of ups and downs, lefts and rights, tears and smiles.
I have argued more than I knew was in me. I have cried more tears than water I drink. I have yelled and slept and ate and sat more than I knew hours were in a day.
People hide grief, they’re embarrassed and think something is wrong. It’s natural. It’s natural and painful and miserable and easily the worst emotion I have ever experienced. Yes, worse than a break-up. Break-ups may not have good reasons, they may be unjust and confusing, but the person still exists on Earth and basically anyone can relate.
Grief, not many folks in their twenties understand grief. Even fewer understand the grief from a child.
I went to a counselor for the first time, and he said I was pretty normal for grief — I had accepted it and that was the first step. Well, it doesn’t feel like that good of a step. He said I was normal in my feelings — that both stung and was comforting. He said we’d talk more about this — exactly what a counselor should say but definitely not what I want to do.
Grief, a word I roll my eyes at for myself right now. Yesterday I was in such a great mood even with the sad and sympathetic faces and eyes. Today, I’m struggling with the happiness happening to those around me. (Granted I haven’t had my coffee yet today and it’s almost noon, but still.)
I’m writing this while I sit in class with tears in my eyes. I wonder how many kids around me can relate. I wonder if the strangers next to me read the title and are scared of me and these tears sitting on my mascara.
I wonder, constantly. And I hate that.
But I love, endlessly. And grief can’t take that away from me.