The Box

There’s a tiny little box in my heart.

In that box I keep my tears, my sadness, my sorrow, my grief.

I can usually keep the box tightly closed.  I can usually keep the grief at bay, without thinking too much about how much it hurts.   After all, there’s so much amazing joy in my life.  There’s love and life and laughter.

But the grief shows up unexpectedly, at inopportune times, and I’m forced to shove it back in the box.

Other times, the box breaks open, much like a suitcase filled to overcapacity and exploding in a flurry of emotions.

overfilled suitcase


I’m not very articulate tonight.   Tonight, I just can’t keep the box closed.  Everything is exploding out and regardless of how much I try to focus on the positive, the happy things, the good memories…  The sadness is just overwhelming.  It’s settled over me like a blanket.

I wish it was easier.  I wish the grieving process was linear and that at X date out, we’re at a certain level of grieving.   That at some point the sadness wouldn’t overwhelm or shred my heart.

It’s not.

Tonight, I am just.





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