be patient with me

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: grief is weird. At times, it can be the most horrible thing, and at other times can be an unwelcome blessing. I say ‘unwelcome’ because I’m the first person to say that I don’t want my feelings to exist, because, well, ow. (Yeah it’s not healthy, get off my back.) Grieving my friend has brought up some emotions that I didn’t even know somebody could have. I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone and be angry with them at the same time. I didn’t know you could be mad about the choice they made while knowing deep in your heart that it wasn’t really his choice. The ugly, bitter truth that people don’t want to hear is that I’m not done grieving David, and I won’t be for a very long time, if ever.

I learned this the hard way with Michele. I had never lost anyone I loved like her. I had never lost someone who was part of my everyday life, someone I desperately wanted to share my successes and failures with, someone who cheered me on and rooted for me. She was like a mother to me. Losing her messed me up and even though it has been about a year and a half, only recently have I been able to think about her and smile instead of cry. Losing David has thrown a wrench into everything I thought I knew about grieving. He was young; he was close to my age; this was preventable. This is completely different from everything I experienced with Michele, and every day I feel just a little bit different.

But, still. Fundamentally, this sometimes feels the same. The hollow feeling; the desire to share things that I no longer can; the feeling of wanting to give anything for just a few more minutes. These are the same, and what’s also the same is the knowledge that everything is different than it would’ve been, forever.

So be patient with me.

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