Wednesday, August 15, 2012

so she went to the tent of the lady of the snakes

A while ago, a guy broke up with me.

In the 2 seconds it takes to say the words, I can't proceed, I was reminded of a familiar feeling—one I'm embarrassed I'd forgotten. The one where you remember you know nothing about being sad. The one where you turn and face the galaxy of despair with your small, new star of grief. Oh, it is nothing. Nothing.

And everything.

It's good to face devastation with gratitude. It's a practice of love & faith.

But, just not the kind of thankfulness that says, It could be worse. Because it is worse. Worse and worse. Unimaginable and worse for some one. Somewhere.

And, again, there must be something Godly in learning how to grieve. To mourn with those who mourn.

1 comment:

  1. I think it's fascinating how people are always so casual about how much break ups and partings and broken love hurts. You're right. It's embarrassing how much we forget--more for those of us who can't mourn with because we forget.

    This post reminded me. Know that your faith inspires me.


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