I’ve been in mourning for years, it feels. Jobs that were, jobs that should have been, realizing that some six month fling was never going to blossom in to anything more, having a wonderful man take your heart for two years and then *poof*, it’s gone. I mourn my youth, I mourn my family members that I will never see again. But it’s never constant. It always comes in waves.
That’s what’s so terribly difficult. You never know when it’s coming or what will trigger it. You can have ideas of what will cause the heartache: the success of former co-workers that you just can’t muster up happiness for, a certain song or movie, a sandwich shop that was once the favorite of you and a special person. You can avoid those things, but that “Oh my God, will I really never ever get that back?” feeling that will sweep over you at the most insignificant moment and in the strangest of places is what crushes your soul and induces that panicky feeling. I have to “JUST BREATHE” like that broad Faith Hill, I know.
Guilt and sadness. It motivates or murders you. Right now I’m in between.