Sometimes I sit in the quiet as if on a beach, watching the waves roll in and out, watching my thoughts sweep in and out, unable to grasp the full meaning of how and why and what. How does life go on amidst so many deaths? Why do we go on when we don’t deserve to? What makes the universe go round?
Every day I settle into a rhythm and I follow routines in an effort to think I can control the world. But it’s all illusion, really. Or delusion. But I try to swim with the current because it’s just easier that way. I let the debris of life float alongside me just to make it less painful. But the pain is inevitable, of course. The memories, the very sight of those things will still hurt. And sometimes I still try to fight it until I am bloodied and battered and my soul sinks into the mire of self pity and rage.
I never used to cry. In fact took pride in the fact that I could remain stoic and detached. It was MY thing. But now the tears flow too easily. I choke up at sad movies. The news of disaster stricken people in disaster stricken countries tear at my heart and I want to weep for them. I am a hopeless quivering mess these days. What is up with that? As if all the sadness has accumulated over time, over all the heart aches and heart breaks and now a tiny drop would cause an overflow. It does feel as if my heart of over-full. Over-full with an unfathomable sorrow and when the dam is just about to burst, the outpouring of tears is uncontrollable, inconsolable.
And every day the grief just continues to fill me to bursting capacity.