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Hear me out I know it’s an unpopular feeling but I find an odd amount of comfort in the fact that death of someone close to you never really heals properly. Ex: listening to a crow looked at me a year later still makes me want to scream cry into the void about my dad but +
I think when he first died and time started going by i would get anxiety about growing up and moving on, like it felt like a betrayal maybe or like if I wasn’t actively grieving i was losing him faster or losing part of him more permanently than death+
+but now I’ve found that though i don’t cry and scream every single day, when I make time to remember my dad the grief is just as strong as day one. And even though it’s obviously a horrible feeling death is inevitable+
And I think getting to experience something like grief that is so intricate and permanent makes us so human but also allows our loved ones to live forever, and it’s like a weird horrible beautiful thing I will always have? I don’t know, I’m trying +
Not to step on any toes, like I’m not trying to romanticize grief by any means; i just think it is in a sense a beautiful thing that we don’t ever really forget the weight of the loss of love. It’s always there and makes us human. Hopefully this makes sense to someone
