Grief is an isolation.

It is its own brand of lonely.

You don’t realise it until you find yourself crying to lyrics in a language you don’t understand in the dead of night.

In the day, you hold each other’s hand and try as hard as you can not to be in the way and basically, as helpful as you possibly can. It seems like you are there for each other.

But you fall with the night.

When your head hits the pillow and you stare into the ceiling in the finally quiet house (knowing everyone is not asleep, not really), in the silent darkness, your heart is crippled. It swallows you whole and you are asphyxiated. And you realise, amidst the tears and korean ballads that you are truly alone in this pain. And so is everyone else under this roof. And this truth tears you apart even more.

Pain is our blood measured in each tear we hide.

Grief is the words we don’t speak of, those echoing in our minds.

Their cries often break your train of thought but you try so hard anyway to drown out the inevitable with deafening music at 1:18am.

How do can you prepare for losing someone? Permanently?


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