You Aren’t Alone in Your Grief
My grief isn’t poetic. Nor is it underlined with a beautiful message. It’s visceral. It’s raw. It’s an open wound being picked at over and over again. It’s all consuming. It’s ugly, harsh, and cruel. It’s repetitive in nature. Reminding me of what brought me to this point.
What did bring me to this point? The initial answer is obvious: loss. The more complicated question that needs to be asked…
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