To walk out of the Darkness
I know I must immerse myself in it fully. This is a walk of faith because I cannot find any guarantees anywhere that promise me a safe return. I can see this dark tunnel looming ahead leading I know not where. I know the danger. I feel the adrenaline pumping blood through my body at frightening speed... I know intuitively I may never emerge from this baalckness. I have no choice. In order to find a way to LIVE I must die to my loss. There is a moment I succumb to death, so that I may live.
The honesty
as I grieve deeply is refreshing. In the shock of loss I have grown finely tuned antennae for bullshit. I have been gifted with unbridled, uncensored honesty. I am trying to turn my feelings about trully devastating events into searing black humour. Dark wit is healing, and the scathing stories show newborn strength. I have no fear of saying anything that is trully on my mind because I have paid the most exactly membership dues by having taken from me the only thing I trully valued. I heal myself by speaking the unspeakable. Stripped of all dignity, I have no use of masks or facades. Loss teaches me time and again how to BE alone.
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