they say not to make a home out of your grief
but how do you do that
when she has been the one who’s always there?

i try to pinpoint the very first time i met her-
was it when my best friend left and i refused to say goodbye, missing my chance to ever say it, and now i barely remember her name?
was it when i saw my mother repeatedly cry, behind the sunglasses, amidst large crowds, and all i hear is the shattering of hearts in her shaky words?
was it when i was left alone to take care of everyone else, to pick up the pieces, and to try to make it whole so that the ones after me has something to hold on to?

i also try to recall when she decided to stay-
was it when i was at my lowest and all i wanted was for him to hold me but instead he made me feel like i’m a burden he doesn’t want to carry anymore?
was it when i finally allowed myself to envision future only to have him drop me and realize during the free fall that i was never in his?
was it when the hope i saw blossom in everyone get stolen by a thief in the night followed by the helplessness of not being able to fight back?

and i do is cry
and cry
and cry

but not just for myself anymore.

that’s when grief is the loudest-
when i think about the could have beens
when i realize the impact beyond my bubble
when i start to feel the dark creeping in.

because lately she envelopes me in this unbearable sadness
and im terrified at thought of her comforting me…

because she does
she’s the only one holding me and puts me to sleep at night.

grief has been a constant reminder that i’m alive
and sometimes i find myself reaching for her
just so i can feel something, anything

so maybe grief isn’t my home
maybe she’s my favorite guest
and she can stay for as long as she wants to