All of Us Strangers
Grief;
grief can be an unexpected visitor, knocking on your door even after three decades have passed. you thought you'd moved on, thought you were finally okay since it happened so long ago.
grief arrives in diverse forms, sometimes seeking solace in shared company, too afraid to confront the solitude of the night.
other times, grief walks alongside you as you revisit the familiar halls of your childhood home. You try to remember old conversations, saying words you wish you had said, if only you had more time. grief becomes your silent companion, holding your hand in the presence of a friend it calls missed chances.
and then there are those moments, in the middle of a weekday, in the crowded confines of a cinema, when grief recognizes you in a sea of faces.
you try to elude its grasp, but today you're too tired to resist. grief seeps in slowly, finally catching you in the last fifteen minutes of the film. 427
you somehow expected it, but your tears still flowed just as effortlessly. as the credits roll, you silently pray for its departure, but grief, as always, is persistent. so you carry it home, its presence a domineering force that keeps you awake in the depths of the night.
grief makes sure its existence is known, its thumping a constant reminder of its presence. It whispers, "I am all you have," leaving you trembling with fear or pain, the lines between the two too blurry to distinguish.
you try to check your phone, seeking solace in the wee hours of the morning because you're too afraid to face the solitude of the night. And then you realize it: grief and loneliness have become you, and you've never been this terrified. 427