Dealing With Grief - Blog Posts

Grief

Izuku Midoriya was familiar with grief. Throughout his life, his precious heart loved too much. So when tragedy struck, the pain oftentimes felt unbearable. His generosity was taken advantage of far too many times. His compassion was abused. He lost people faster than he gained. Izuku Midoriya was very familiar with grief.

His father disappeared for a job across the world. Hisashi was too busy to send a text. He was too busy to say happy birthday. He was never there. All he was, was an idea. Only the thought of him existed to Izuku. The grief he felt from losing someone he never knew hurt the worst.

The people Izuku considered friends left him at the drop of a hat. No one stuck around. No one defended him. They changed faster than Izuku could comprehend. One second they played in the sand and in the next they were throwing sand at him. They were no longer people Izuku knew.

Izuku lost the one person he desired the most. Katsuki Bakugo became a star. Something so far away he’d never dream of being able to touch. Katsuki glowed and shined brilliantly. He was perfect in Izuku’s eyes. Izuku would chase Katsuki, refusing to give up. While the new version of his friend wasn’t tasteful, Izuku still knew how amazing Katsuki was deep down.

As Izuku grew up so did his list of losses. Quirkless people that he would meet on social media died. Once he got into U.A. he gained a lot of friends and strong adult figures, but just like in the past, people still left. His teachers died, many heroes died, villains died, and innocent civilians died. Midoriya at one point ran away, having to lose everyone he cared about to keep them safe. He watched the world crumble around him. Some of the people he held closest almost became memories.

Through all of it, Izuku persevered. He dealt with grief in many different ways. His method always changed and alternated depending on what and how.

Izuku was now in the middle of his third year at U.A. and couldn’t have been happier. His friends were alive, his teachers were alive, and villains were at an all-time low since the rise of quirks decades ago. Heroes were still needed by all means, but the League of Villains no longer existed and no war was about to break out.

Izuku had time to visit Eri and Kota more often as his workload was not nearly as big as it was in his first year attending U.A. The kids grew so much within two years. One day Aizawa informed Izuku he would need a babysitter for Eri. Izuku dropped everything to do so. Izuku took her out to the school’s garden, finding it a beautiful day to go outside.

Katsuki and Shoto got asked by Hatsume to go get Izuku quickly. She needed his opinion on some gear she was making for a first-year. They wanted recommendations and Hatsume knew asking the quirk analyst would help shorten down her list of ideas. The duo tracked him down to the garden with Eri after asking around.

Eri was currently weaving some flowers together, mimicking Izuku’s instructions. Izuku had asked about Aizawa and how she enjoyed living with him. Eri was more than happy to talk about her father, but suddenly she went quiet.

“Eri-chan? Is something wrong?” asked Izuku, worried that the chattering girl suddenly went silent.

Eri seemed to be contemplating something before looking up at Izuku. “Mister Deku, I have a question.”

“Go ahead,” encouraged Izuku, knowing Eri would ask no matter what. She knew she could ask Izuku anything.

Eri sat down the half-weaved flowers on the ground and focused on Izuku. “What is your Dad like? I can’t remember you ever telling me about him.”

“Oh, that’s because I never met him Eri. He went away for work before I got a chance to remember him,” revealed Midoriya, speaking to her in a soft tone.

“Why was he away for work for so long?” questioned Eri, not understanding why Izuku’s dad just wouldn’t be around.

Izuku shrugged, weaving Eri’s flowers for her. “I don’t know. His work was too important I suppose.”

Eri frowned, sad Izuku’s dad wasn’t around. “What about others?”

“Others?” repeated Izuku back to Eri, confused about what she meant.

“Yeah. The grandpas and grandmas and stuff. All of those people!” revealed Eri, a chipper grin on her face.

“Well, when I was young… they seemed to leave,” chuckled Izuku, unable to bring himself to tell her why.

Eri’s eyes widened, shocked Izuku was a lot like her. “Why did they all leave?”

Katsuki and Shoto arrived at the garden, spotting the two. They approached and saw the two talking. The expressions on Eri and Izuku’s faces signaled they were having a serious conversation. Katsuki walked right over, shamelessly snooping. Shoto went right alongside Katsuki. He wanted to know what Izuku was talking about.

Izuku was quick to come up with something, anything to keep Eri from getting too upset. He raised his head to see the sky peek through the leaves of the tree they were under.

“Sometimes special people come into our lives, stay for a bit, and then they have to go.”

Eri frowned, scooting closer to Izuku. “But that’s sad.”

“It is,” agreed Izuku solemnly. Izuku returned his gaze to Eri, resting his hands on the cloth of his slacks, smoothing out the wrinkles. He remembers how it felt to lose Toshinori. The news that Toshinori wouldn’t be around for much longer struck him in the gut so hard he couldn’t move. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t hard. He smiled softly at her, tilting his head to the side. “But the bit where they were here was happy wasn’t it? Like Lemillion. When he was around, those were happy times.”

Eri’s eyes lit up, seeing the point Izuku was making. She giggled, a bright smile appearing as she nodded. “Yes! I brought his quirk back!”

Izuku hummed, nodding his head in acknowledgment. He recalled how monumental of a moment that was for everyone. Still, the thought reminded him of the war where no one walked away a winner. He pushed those feelings down, finding unconditional love for the girl he saw as his little sister.

“Maybe that makes it all worth it,” chuckled Midoriya, looking down at the flowers before putting one in her hair.

Eri smiled, touching the flower happily. She could understand what Izuku was saying. She missed Mirio always being around, but the time when he was around was a happy time. It made the time he was away bearable.

Shoto stood there, gripping the fabric of his shirt. He could feel his heart pound beneath his knuckles. The expression on Izuku’s face gnawed at him. The way Izuku said everything so mindlessly made Shoto realize Izuku thought of loss, a lot. Shoto lost a lot in his life, yet he couldn’t begin to deal with the grief in healthy ways. It took outside help to get to the point he was currently at. Even with the help he got, he couldn’t say there was anything that made it worth it. Not losing Toya, Rei, and the list of others he lost.

Katsuki watched with a blank expression. No matter what Izuku did, he couldn’t hide anything from Katsuki. Katsuki could see the strain in that smile. He could see the exhaustion replace the hope that was once in Izuku’s eyes. It made his palms sweaty. The way he felt was similar to the way a person would get when they had an itch they couldn’t scratch.

Katsuki loved Izuku. Izuku was like a porcelain sculpture, handcrafted by the heavens. Izuku's heart was made out of gold and he had the strength that could rival Gods and Goddesses. Katsuki looked at Izuku and drowned in hills of green. Izuku was the human embodiment of green: symbolic of life. His eyes, his hair, his everything.

Katsuki fell hard and Izuku had no clue. He watched Izuku tend to Eri with the maternal instincts he knew mimicked Inko. He knew deep down what Izuku was thinking the whole time. He knew what Izuku went through and how he dealt with losing people. Katsuki knew he had scared Izuku on numerous occasions when it came to “going away”.

Katsuki was about to step up and ruin the special moment, but Eri stopped him in his tracks. “Mister Deku… I don’t want you to go. You’re special.”

Izuku looked at Eri and his eyes widened. “Eri, I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you’re going to be a hero next year.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you,” reassured Izuku, giving her an earnest smile.

“You’re not?” sniffled Eri.

Izuku scooped her into a gentle embrace. “Nope. Never ever.”

Eri cried into Izuku’s shoulder, hugging him tightly. Izuku rubbed circles on her back as tears made their way down his cheeks. His smile cracked as he listened to the relieved cries of Eri. Izuku pulled back and tucked her fly-away hair behind her ear before wiping away her tears. “You won’t be going anywhere either. You’re just as special.”

Eri smiled, patting Izuku’s tears as well. “Never! I’d never leave!”

Izuku laughed, rising to his feet and extending a hand out to her. “Good, because who else would I have tea parties with?”

“Yeah, and you can’t leave because no one else can make me candy apples,” threatened Eri adorably, taking Izuku’s hand and jumping up.

Izuku patted her head, smiling fondly. “Speaking of food, it’s about time we get you some lunch. What are you hungry for today?”

Katsuki revealed himself to Izuku and Eri. Todoroki magically appeared beside Katsuki and waved at the two. “Hi.”

Izuku’s face lit up. “Kacchan! Shoto!”

Katsuki crossed his arms. “Hatsume needs your help when you get the chance. Also, I’m making us lunch today. You’ll burn down the kitchen.”

“I’m completely capable of cooking Kacchan,” sassed Izuku, raising a brow. Izuku had cooked before Katsuki on numerous occasions.

Shoto lowered his head in shame. “I can’t cook.”

Eri smiled up at Shoto. “Me neither! We are the same!”

Shoto perked up, nodding at the small child. “We are.”

Izuku was distracted by the two’s little scene and smirked. “Well, neither of you has to worry about that. It seems that Kacchan has you covered since he won’t let me cook.”

“Ha! Don’t try and do that guilt-tripping bullshit Izuku,” roared Katsuki, all bark no bite.

Izuku smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Just saying the truth Kacchan. Let’s go then, me and Eri are hungry.”

As the four made their way into the main building, Katsuki wrapped an arm around Izuku’s shoulder and bit his chubby cheek. Izuku, used to the violent forms loving Katsuki showed, lightly bonked his head against Katsuki’s.

“Nothing makes it worth it if I can’t have you by my side,” murmured Katsuki into Izuku’s ear.

Izuku’s heart melted at Katsuki’s voice and his words of affirmation. Izuku leaned his head on Katsuki’s shoulder, using his free hand to wrap around his bicep. “You know I can’t live without you either,” whispered Izuku.

Izuku may be used to grief… but he will never be prepared when the time comes he loses the ones he holds the closest for good. But for now, Izuku has everything he could ever want. Eri, Shoto, and Katsuki had everything they could ever want. As cheesy as it sounded, it was because they had each other. They had love to keep the grief at bay or they made themselves believe so.

The End!

(also ignore the fact I referenced a scene from the kid's show Bluey in the episode “Camping” 😭 and ignore the fact that I thought about making a fan fiction because of it 💔 it was emotional okay?)

I wanted to publish this poem of mine 😅that just came to me after thinking🤔 of all the things I have through at school this year💯.

So please be honest😁 about the poem and pls give me pointers👀 that can help me improve on future poems in the future 😁.

REGRETS ✨

Over my shoulder the shadow looms like humid air.

Much to my dismay the time I have can't spare-

A moment of truth, for a greedy gasp of air

I only hope for a better day for us my dear.

We wish to be free amongst the others,

To be normalized into the casual ordinary

Living as the best of the worst was momentary.

We have survived but not thrived.

Bright gleams kills the burdens,

Lifting off the weight of notes and appearances,

Our moment has arrived to be recognized.

Yes. I hope to be next to you

Yet the world has bigger things that are due-

I write to say goodbye to the past life,

I had in those corridors and lockers,

And wave "hi" to the start of a new beginnings.

my dog chased the afterlife. i chased the memories and bits of pieces he left for me in this world. i miss that big fella..

grief hits in funny little ways always trying to remind you what you’ve lost.

Tonight might be my last night of therapy for grief and working through my miscarriage and I don't know how to feel about it. But I do know it's helped me through the pain so take that Nana, therapy does help.

And oh darling. I'm sending you so many hugs. The only things I'm sure about grieving is that it is never easy (and I think it's also complex). I truly hope you can grieve in peace and can find the right path for you. Everyone also deals with it differently, so there is no universal recipe for how to process these emotions. If you ever think you'd like to talk to about your experience or feelings, I would gladly offer a listening ear. Take care, Moss! - DCMK 2/2

I appreciate it. It's an incredibly rough time for me, but some days are better than others. I've been trying to get out of the apartment some days just to get out of bed and be somewhere else for a bit. Some days I couldn't leave bed if I tried. While I won't get into the details too much, I felt it good to make a page break and mention something if that's okay.

I think the weirdest part is before, during the few times prior I had experience loss, there was really mostly one person there by my side who had helped me navigate it. Someone I consider one of my best friends, and I know it was a mutual feeling. But this time, I have a lot of people around me, supporting me, and checking in, but it feel so wrong, since I'm used to having him around, but he's the one who's gone now.

And I try to remind myself that I shouldn't feel guilt, and I just feel so lost. I sort of feel like I'm just being pulled along by time, away, and drifting.

25 May 4:25 am

I have sat here and typed and retyped but nothing comes out that can express the feeling, the only way I can think of is asking the question... When will it pass?

When will I stop picking up the phone to call you only to remember that where you are you cannot receive calls? When will I be excited and not have the instant thought to share it with you knowing that I can't? When will I be able to go to sleep without wishing I did so knowing you were one of the people I spoke to in my day? When does it end? When does this loop end? I am tired. Please stop this feeling because it hurts too much.

There is pain in acceptance. It's a stage of grief for a reason, I suppose...

The guilt that comes with grieving.

I lost my grandfather about a month ago, and now all I can think about every day is that I should have listened to his stories more. I should have spent more time with him. I should have cared more. I hate my younger self for not showing him how much I loved and appreciated him. I was only a kid, but I still feel so much guilt.

He had dementia and yet his face would light up whenever we saw him. He knew who we were up until his last day's and the way he reacted showed us how much he loved us but I don't think I'll get over the fact that I didn't love him enough until it was too late.

For the past couple of years, he has been my favourite person. I learnt more about him within three years than I did my whole life and the things I learnt about his childhood made me hate myself even more. He went through so much and dedicated his adulthood to making sure his children and grandchildren had better parental figures than he did.

I love him so much, but I will always be afraid that I loved him too late.

365 Days Without You

I always thought grief would be black and white, monotonous for the most part. Then I thought it would be grey, like the clouds, right before it rained, holding onto as much as you can till you fall apart. But the past year has taught me that grief has colors, colors no one stops to notice or understand, colors I never thought I’d see again...

Sometimes grief would be blue, like the sky that goes on without an end, it was quiet and calm, maybe a little long yet soothing despite the sorrow deep within. Grief was green, like the trees, grass, and weeds that grew on the side of your grave, grief was growth and life despite the life lost. Grief was red, like the million flowers we arranged atop your grave in hopes you could smell them the way we could, red like the anger that kept seething despite all the rational thoughts and beliefs, a little faulty and unpredictable. Then, grief was yellow, it was funny with a little drop of sunshine where you could only think to find darkness, it was proof you could smile despite adversities. Grief is anything but the gloomy, grey picture we often paint in our heads.

I still vividly remember the day I received the call at work. I had only imagined what pain and sorrow would feel like until that moment, and despite knowing the worst has happened, all I felt was complete numbness. I could have sworn I held my breath on the ride home, wishing the car to speed past traffic lights, but also praying not to reach, not to ever find out what was awaiting me at the end of the journey. I was not prepared for this goodbye despite knowing and feeling its lingering presence for months. I was not ready to let you go… 

I had so much to say and yet silence engulfed me whole for months. I could never quite put my thoughts into words the way I wanted to, I could not speak to a wall thinking your presence filled the room or think of you as an angel living in the heavens above, looking down on me. I could not simply pretend you still were here, yet I could not completely fathom your absence long enough to understand that you were gone forever.

Maybe I was a little mad, but more than anger, it was sadness in a way I had never felt before. It was in knowing nothing would ever come close to having spent decades with you ever again. It was in knowing I could never again hold your hand as we walked through the park, never again drink the coffees that you make or share your favorite strawberry ice creams with you, it was in knowing I could never again hear your voice calling me out as I walked past your room, never again having your presence in celebrations and festivities that you dearly looked forward to. It was in knowing you’d never again sing along to the songs that played on the radio, never again waking up in the wee hours to catch World Cup matches, listening to your commentary and supporting Brazil because that was your favorite team. It was in knowing you’d never be the one who takes up the spot right next to me in family portraits and birthday photographs, it was in knowing I have kissed you goodbye for the last time and put you six feet deep where I could not quite reach you the way I wanted to. My sorrow was tied to never having you again, and knowing that there is still much I needed you for in life. It is tied to the absence and void that I now have to live and make peace with because there isn’t much else to do…

I expected myself to feel lost, to go through tons of emotions, behave irrationally, throw tantrums, and spend most of my days and nights in complete solitude. Life was a far cry from what I’d imagined, I spent most of my days after your loss swamped with work and I was surprisingly good at it. And when I couldn’t breathe, I found myself locked in a toilet or curled up on the bed, holding myself together on the brink of losing it, praying to keep it together for just a bit longer. This was a huge loss for the entire family, and with the emotional rollercoaster we all rode those months, I found it necessary to keep all my pain and sorrow hidden. I made the most jokes, recalled your time with us animatedly and did what I could to make sure everyone was okay. Most days, I kept myself mentally and physically busy to the point when I hit the bed, there was no room for thinking, let alone overthinking. All I did for a good six months or so, was work, exhaust myself and sleep.

Life took a complete turn overnight and I was nowhere near prepared for a death I knew was coming and would completely shatter me.

Tell me, how does one prepare for the complete absence of a loved one for the rest of whatever forever we have left…

I am grateful for photographs and videos of you; they bring you back whole to me for a split second every time I catch a glimpse of them. Sometimes, with my eyes closed, I could swear I feel you right here with me. In the moments I spend most alone, most broken and find myself hurting and longing for your comforting hug and presence, I feel myself break in a way I could never explain. But in those very moments, I think you’re somewhere nearby, holding my hands, silently sitting with me, the way you always did. I know you are right here. 

You’re in every flower that blooms in my garden, in every innocent smile and laughter of every child I meet on the streets, in the black coffees I drink every morning now, and in your favorite songs that play constantly on my playlist. You’re everywhere I turn, and it is not painful anymore. It’s comforting to know the things you’ve left behind in the form of objects, routines, and habits help hold me together in knowing you’re just as much here as you were before when I feel a little abandoned in life.

It still feels like you’re asleep in an unknown, unfindable room in this house, I still wait to see if you’d come walking down the hall whenever we gather for family time like you always do, I still think you’re here whenever I turn another corner or sit on your couch waiting for you to magically appear again as though nothing went amiss, like the past year didn't happen. I wonder if I prayed long and hard enough, if you'd come right back and life would resume playing out the way it was supposed to.

Sitting here, I could tell you I did not believe I’d make it past the first 24 hours, let alone a whole year. It feels surreal, like a never-ending dream I hope to awaken from and find you laughing with me as I recall every little detail, but it all feels less probable and more an unchanged reality as time passes by. With every day that begins and ends without you, know that I carry you in my heart, know that every step I take and every single thing I do, will embody you, and it will be something I hope makes you proud.

Tell me what I missed when I see you again, tell me how much you missed me and hold me till I feel whole again, tell me all your wonderful adventures from when you were young again even though I remember every story, every word, by heart, the way I do you.

I will always hold you in my heart for whatever life and eternity there is left to live,

with eternal love,

Rose.

In loving memory of my most beloved grandfather♥️

© Raina Rose 

oh this sad warmth of grief; a warm tear on cold cheeks.

what is grief

if not love and longing

embracing?

when grief starts overflowing again, remember, there is still love left. you're still filled with love. no one deserves your love more than you do.

—𝓜𝓼. 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮

And I am content to keep hurting. I am content to keep pressing my soft body into the recesses of his absence, if it will only bring me closer to his place in nothing.

I lost my boy today. He wasn’t overly fond of me, more so my mother was his favorite, but he had his moments. Moments when he’d remember the day I saved him, abandoned by his mother as a kitten only days old. Whatever happened to her, I don’t know. Maybe she knew he was sick. That one day his heart would fail, and she didn’t want to stick around for the ticking time bomb to finally go off. The one only of his litter to survive the cold of the night, finally joining his brothers and sisters on the other side. I loved him more than you can imagine. And I cherished his tender moments with me, every one. I do not care that his heart was enlarged and he would live to only 7. I would save him every time I found him in every universe that I did. He will always be worth the pain of loving him. Always.

Why do the ones I love keep being taken from me? What have I done to deserve shards of their memory pricking my fingertips like spindles every time I scroll on my phone and see a face that has stolen a piece of them? Their eyes on someone else’s head, their smile creasing someone else’s cheeks, their ginger hair curling around someone else’s ears that don’t fucking look right! I hate that I see you everywhere. I hate more that it’s never you.

Just… gimme a minute… y’all. These two need to have this conversation. These two have gone through so much and to see this drawn so beautifully AND with a written snippet just ugggggg my heart.

I need a hug yall, these feelings getting too intense to keep dealing with by myself 😆😅😭💔💙✨

The hologram of his loved one sizzled softly in silence till the blue light disappeared, leaving the stars twinkling sadly before them. Casey can only feel his throat closed up with a choking sob yet no sound comes from it but the gentle sniffles of grief. Grief, he almost laughed, grief is supposed to be something that happens once in a while yet for him it’s everyday, for him it’s Master Raph, for him it’s Master Donnie, for him it’s his loving mom, for him it’s Commander O’neil, for him it’s Master Michelangelo, for him…it’s Master Leonardo, and now everyone until he is the only sole evidence his world exists. He doesn’t want to get attached to this world, to the people who are still living, and breathing and so alive because inevitably- they will disappear, just like everyone who he loved in his life. “You know…” the young Leonardo spoke uncharacteristically, without charisma, without energy, without anything that made Leo Leo. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose everyone in one day.” he whispered, the turtle’s hand still holding onto Casey in a reassuring manner with his gaze still stuck on where his holographic future-self used to be “But I know what it’s like to grieve.” he chuckled tiredly, Casey could only lean close yet he still refuse to look at Leo “There was this line dad said when he finally opened up his trauma to us.” a silent pause took place for a moment, until he continued “There is a type of love that is only experienced through sadness, and a type of joy that is only experienced through grief.” In the cold wind and the gentle lullaby of twinkling lights, his eyes slightly widen. “Pain is the price that we pay for love, and the only way to not feel pain is to never feel love.” Casey finally looked at Leo, his sole reason on wanting to get rid of these fond feelings when he sees this worlds’ family, the feeling of where Raph will teach him how to wrestle, where Donnie will rant about science, where his mom will call him into crazy adventures, where Mikey will make him eat different types of food, where April will teach him about the outside human world, where Splinter will let him watch TV with him, or where Leo will make so many bad and cringey jokes. Where everything made Casey so happy. “But love is what makes life meaningful, so don’t stop loving Casey.” “Because we sure hell will never stop loving you.” Casey felt safe arms around him, hugging him in such a familiar way it made him finally burst. To cry out how unfair the universe is to him, how unfair that he has to grow up in a time with no rest, with no moment of clarity, with no moment to tell everyone he loves that he misses them, he misses them so much. Leo didn’t say anything anymore, yet his soft hums will tell Casey- ‘I’m here, we are here, we will not leave you anymore.’ And for a moment, and maybe tomorrow, that would be enough for him to keep on smiling, to keep on being genuinely happy, to keep holding on. ‘Anatawa Hitorijanai.’ He could hear Master Leonardo whisper to him. ‘Anatawa Hitorijanai.’ ———————————— (some lines here are from Cinema Therapy because those guys can make me cry like a lil bitch, so anyways, we need more angst fuel for my boy Casey cus my man needs to reach his angst potential like our turtle bois >:((( )

(I also apologize if there is typos, its been long since i ever type a long ass story!!) 

northern lights

my dog died last night. his pawprints are all still in the snow all over the house. the treats we had been trying to get him to eat are everywhere. his bed is still by the fire. his favorite toy is with him, they said that they would cremate it with him. i have a matching smaller version that is on my keys.

his fur is on my jacket from last night, that is now drenched in years. i got home and collapsed and held my jacket like i had held him.

tonight is new years eve. anchorage, alaska. i hear people partying in a house down the mountain. our neighbors set off fireworks. the sky is the same shade of green as his favorite jacket. i sat outside in the 12 degree air and let it wrap me like a blanket. i told the northern lights that i love him. that i miss him.

my toes are numb and my ears burn and all i want is to have him back. he would lay out where i was standing all the time, not wanting to come in even when it was cold. i wanted to feel how he felt.

the sky is getting greener with different waves near the mountain top and getting wider in the middle of the sky. brief flashes of fireworks interrupt in the corner. even though there are no streetlights, it never really gets dark super dark here.

i'm staring at his pawprints in the yard again. i remember when we first got him. my mom walked him to our middle school to pick us up as a suprise. he had 4 owners before he landed with us. how could someone not want the most perfect dog. i would do anything to have him back.

i loved him so much. i still love him. there's waves of comfort and waves of grief and all i know is that it hurts. i don't know where to put the love.

anytime i listen to the song "it's quiet uptown" from the hamilton playlist, i get so sad. the grief of losing a child is rippled throughout so well. the bit where hamilton says, "and i pray. that never used to happen before." is so strong. the part where the company says, "his hair has gone gray, he passes everyday, they say he walks the length of the city." is so powerful. the part where he talks to eliza, "if i could spare his life. if i could trade his life for mine, he'd be standing here right now, and you would smile, and that would be enough." is so heartbreaking. the part where angelica sings, "we push away the unimaginable." is so real. the part where eliza takes hamilton's hand in the garden, and sings, "it's quiet uptown." is so strong. the part where the company sings, "forgiveness. can you imagine? forgiveness." is so strong.

what a beautifully written song.

Letter to my father

I hate the 15th of may.

I had my first cycle on the 15th of may.

It was at your home, not at mom's.

I panicked.

I knew what was happening, and yet I cried anyways.

You didn't say a thing.

Not that it was normal.

Not that it was growing up.

You just rubbed my back and left me some pads while you went heating an hot water bag.

When I came out of the bathroom you were there, ankward, handling me the bag and some painkillers.

You said you didn't know if I would need them.

I felt like a little kid crying in your arms that afternoon.

Like I felt at three years old when you would holst me up your shoulders and the whole world felt so far away (when I KNEW you would be there, and that you would never let me fall).

You were more kid than what I ever managed to be.

It wasn't always a good thing.

It wasn't always a good thing, but you had a levity of living I always lacked.

I never knew how to be a child.

I was always too cerebral, too strange.

But then you would pick me up from school on windy days, a kite in one hand, and I managed to be a kid, too.

Someone once wrote that grief was like walking up the stairs to your bedroom, in the dark, and finding a step missing.

It's not wrong, per se.

Sometimes I find myself wanting to call you, before remembering that your phone sits in one of my drawers, battery dead, and that no-one, least of all you, will ever pick it up again.

I hate the 15th of may.

I hated it at ten and now I hate it still.

But maybe hate too, is just another word for absence.

Maybe hate too, is just another way of saying “I miss you”.

Existe un tipo de dolor que es cotidiano

Uno en el que no te das cuenta que estás sufriendo

Hasta que un día, algún viejo amigo dice "No es normal que todo el tiempo vivas en el pasado"

Incluso ese dolor cotidiano puede ser una rutina

Ese tipo de sufrimiento en el que se crea una falsa ilusión de que solo es cansancio o nostalgia

La nostalgia solo les sirve a los poetas

El cansancio es un síntoma de tantos de esa tristeza cotidiana

Hay un tipo de sufrimiento del que estamos enamorados

Un tipo de dolor que no podemos dejar ir

¿Por qué?

Probablemente por la misma razón por la cual nos aferramos al pasado

Existe un tipo de tristeza que es difícil dejar ir

Porque, a diferencia de la felicidad y del futuro; el pasado y la nostalgia es un camino que ya vivimos

A lo mejor es solo la incertidumbre del futuro

Probablemente deseamos siempre lo que no tenemos

Puede que, esta tristeza radica en lo que más deseas y no logras tener

Pero cada vez que noto el dolor cotidiano; pienso en las posibilidades de aquello

En mis posibilidades

Y me pregunto sí alguna vez el dolor pueda desaparecer de mi rutina