In ten days I’ve never slept more but remained bone weary exhausted.
My home has never felt more empty or foreign to me but as comforting and needed as now.
I’ve never felt such ache and loss but clarity from relief.
An embrace has never felt so welcoming and calming while also intensely suffocating.
I’m breathing but feel like I’m drowning because a breath too deep could break the precarious dam.
A run has never been greeted with such aversion and dread while also being the true cleansing needed to flush this wound and heal my heart.
The rushes of relief.
The intense ache.
The painful waves that overcome.
The joyful memories.
The immeasurable hole.
The fingers that remember the stroke and softness of each pet.
The sound of the collar ringing at the door when it’s bumped.
All of it is here and now.
Living in grief.