Today, grief showed up again.
Not poetic, not gentle — just heavy. It’s not one big thing, more like a hundred quiet cuts that finally bled through. I don’t even know exactly what cracked me open. I just know I’m in it.
Grief doesn’t care about calendars or to-do lists. It just arrives — arms crossed, unbothered by your plans. I’ve learned the hard way: pushing it down doesn’t work. It just grows sharper in the dark.
So I’m letting it out here. Not to solve it. Just to stop it from swallowing me whole.
If you’re feeling it too, I see you. Grief needs air. Needs voice. Even a shaky one.
Today isn’t about fixing anything. It’s just about carrying the weight — instead of letting it carry me.
Thanks for being here. You’re not alone