The mere mention of the word death is like a huge anchor suddenly being dropped to the very pit of your stomach. The rapidity of your pulsating heart and the shock of the news engulf you in this invisible cloak, shrouding you while removing you form the rest of the world. Every activity you were previously preoccupied with, every other thought apart from that single one becomes blurred, diminishing into nothingness.
Disbelief settles in as your eyes flood with a never ending stream of tears. You feel chocked up,trapped in a dark place from which escaping seems incomprehensible. You feel as though nothing will ever be the same. You begin to question your own existence, marvelling once more at how everything in life amounts to the feeling of being cheated.
I have always been a quiet griever. Mourning to me is an experience no one but the person going through it can actually understand. No matter how heartfelt a third persons condolences may be, they feel like empty words when unaccompanied by their physical presence, their shoulder to cry on and a loving hug. Empathy I believe must be shown through actions.
Dealing with the death of a loved one, friend, relative is a part of life we all go through. Every death leaves behind a fresh gash. The toughest part is when the previous gash hasn’t yet healed and a new one opens up. The bitter brokenness is worse than any heartbreak ever felt.