The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.
Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes more away from you.
It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.
Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.
That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.
It sucks that we miss people like that. You think you've accepted that someone is out of your life, that you've grieved and it's over, and then bam. One little thing, and you feel like you've lost that person all over again.
I am stronger than I am broken.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.
Grief is a most peculiar thing; we’re so helpless in the face of it. It’s like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.