susan orlean asked 'if you had really loved something, wouldn't a little bit of it always linger?'
it lingers through good and bad - once a storm that dried to a drizzle, overstayed its welcome and lingered like heat lightning now finds me in the middle of town on a bright, sunny day.
it is grief now who has become my friend in your place, and like a full-grown child, i set the table for dinner when it comes home to visit the empty nest it left.
sometimes,
the grief is knowing that time has made me accepting of the absence:
yes, i don't need you anymore -
yes, i wish things had been different -
yes, i'm okay that they weren't -
yes, i may not answer the phone if you call -
no, i wasn't ever expecting you to.
it lingers in how if i did it all again, maybe this time i'd really actually study astronomy more than just an iphone app at the farmhouse -
because much like grief, i still find Orion instantly when i look into the sky since it was the only constellation you could ever find. i decided to always find it with you, and now, what started as a quiet promise is now a curse because i can’t look at the sky without finding it, and i can’t find it without remembering what i lost along the way.
so now, i stargaze with grief and i find constellations while that old love still lingers. i dream of flying where i can sit along his belt and hope you’d meet me there one day, too.
my, what a journey it’s been.
ellievsbear
janainaart
gummygunk
kianamaiart
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
areudirty
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
jbbartram-illu
