Grief so yielding of action. From him I wish to take it away but it is impossible with me here and him there. I just have to have it then in all its weightiness. Just have to see it through and believe he may reap the benefit, through space and time. The loss too is my loss however obscurely, however inconceivably so. Sadness has been the tide, stopped and reversed, never coming in, and now I’m terrified at its return. The wall then, not so impermeable as I had once thought. Still affected so intensely by another’s bereavement. How to crawl out of my own heart and still live. I think of him then, and hope the anguish swift and the mourning, restful, when there can be no rest.
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