Following up on a common theme among all my drafts and current essays I’m writing, mostly on not knowing where it is I’m going, I’ve revisited this gem from the beginning of this month. Touching upon topics such as grief, intrusive thoughts and the everlasting question of love’s arrival.
“Grief is love’s souvenir. It’s our proof that we once loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Look! Love was once mine. I loved well. Here is my proof that I paid the price. I still wake up with things to tell you.”