off in the horizon, just beyond the river bend and downtown boogie ave comes blindsided slaughter of euphoria. Death.
Having barely navigated the jungle of grief these past 9 months and seeing that comforting EXIT sign like turning down my block after a long night- I find myself completely lost in sadness again.
Hold up.
Not lost like "How am I gonna survive this" lost.
But "How do I make it out THIS time?" lost.
"Do I have enough gas left?" lost.
"Why am I back here?" lost.
"How many more times.." lost.
"God I am not strong enough." lost.
This whole experience of loss in two's is new and quite frankly the worst. I have nothing in my past to compare it too, and to ask people of their own experience makes it hurt even more. Their genuine and often unrefined emotions about the losses of loved ones stings like a paper cut I'm reminded of under hot water. Years later and the scar is still seen and felt.
I fear that this not only will break me but also will repeat itself. And THAT will bend me to splinters.
Of course I am rambling. That's what grief does- I'm spilling over with wayward, forceful emotions that are engaged without a destination. Their tenacity is intimidating and often wonder if this is at all my reality or have I finally cracked. Reality so damn full of hurt and unattainable salve that this must be a movie and I am just dreaming in playbacks. Reruns of "Worst Case Scenarios" staring me in a visionary nightmare.
Nah Fam- it's just me and facts.
Of course I'm projecting like a mutha, but like the fitty-11 stages of grief I'm just treading water through all of them. Keeping my head barely above water, but still not falling under. The waves will come, that's a promise. I'll just keep kicking?
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