Do not believe what they tell you about Grief: I will tell you this much because I know him very well.
Grief is an old and sad and terrible friend who clings to you with the heaviness of a freight train but finds the litheness to spring from you weightless. He holds your throat in the strength of his hand, bruises your skin, confuses your body and lets go only when you've made it clear that you have surrendered and settled for a life of him.
He will leave
you will find relief
time will go by
and then you will feel different, gentle, beautiful hands on your arms, hands that remind you that humans can be tender
and suddenly you cannot help butΒ Β think of how Grief held you so long ago and by mistake (what have you done?) you have allowed his return, he has taken your reverie as an ominous invitation to ever so slowly curl his limbs around your ribcage, invade your warrior bloodstream and effortlessly cut off every molecule of oxygen you had spent so very long breathing in.