I'm wearing my comfort shirt today - you know the one. It has holes in it, and it's way too big, even for me. Over the years it has gotten thin, and it seems to offer little warmth to me today. Inside it, I can feel myself trembling as I face the reality of the time ahead.
The last three weeks have been a time of heaven - of haven - for me. It has been a time of hope, of healing and of self discovery. An important time on every level I can think of, and probably every level that I can't. It's like the scales have fallen from my eyes and I have finally seen something that I should have seen years ago. Many years ago.
In short, it has been fantastic - I would struggle to conjure up sufficient superlatives to fully satisfy the feeling in my heart - either for the wonderfulness of her being here, or for the devastatingness of her being gone. My spell checker tells me that there is no such word as ”devastatingness“ - well, there should be, and there is now. It's as if my happiness is encased in a massive chunk of ice in front of me. I can see it, and observe it in almost every way - I just can't touch it and properly engage with it again.
I'm wearing my comfort shirt today, but it is not working. Maybe I'm spelling it wrong. Here, let me try again: