Today, I realized I had finally put 1825 in a box. It's as though I feel nothing except this one little cord linked between myself and that box. The pain lifted, a temporary lift. Like a cloud maybe.
I'm not sure which part of grief this is. I tried being angry. That didn't work. I tried being soft and warm, open. That didn't work. I am now at this weird, hard to describe emotional place.
I want to feel more but if I do, I think I may dive so deep into a dark place that I'll never come back. I have detached myself out of sheer necessity. The pain has just been way too great.
When does this end?
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