Grief's currency

The cost of remembering is grief. It is a price we pay with our hearts, one that is exacted by time's unrelenting march forward. But who will arrive to remove the rot you've left inside of me? It causes a continuous discomfort that won't go away, festering like a wound. I bit the arm of history off and cut the connections that connected me to the past, but now I'm plagued by memories of the past. Someone will eventually catch up with it, and I wonder if they will see any beauty within this maze of feelings.

My chest feels like a mountain pressing down on me as the weight of memories threatens to smother me. However, there is a glimpse of something lovely in the midst of this gloom, a reminder of the once-present love and connection. Grief is more than just a burden; it's a sign of how deeply we feel things and a constant reminder of the people we've loved and lost. The brilliant light that previously flashed in our life is highlighted by the shade.

I am reminded that sorrow is not a linear process as I make my way through the maze of my own feelings. The brittle boat of my heart is in peril as the waves crash unpredictably in this choppy sea. However, there is a chance to turn chaos into order, to capture the essence of loss in words that speak to those who have travelled a similar route.

I am inspired by the darkest recesses of my psyche. I combine the strands of regret and memory into a tapestry of beauty by turning the pieces of my wounded heart into a mosaic of words. I take comfort in this act of creation because it allows me to respect the past while embracing the present.

And so, I write. In order to put the shards of sadness together and give them purpose, I write. I write to preserve the essence of what has been lost and to give it to the world as a gift. Grief could be the cost of remembering, but through the alchemy of writing, it transforms into an invaluable homage to the love that endures in the very depths of my spirit.