Sometimes Sadness Is All I Feel

The weight of the grief around not being able to talk to L has been heavy.

This weekend has been heavy.

I’m having a hard time.

I know logically that there’s nothing wrong with feeling love. I know that love, in itself, isn’t a moral failure or a mistake. And still, I can’t help but feel wrong for feeling it. As if loving too deeply is some kind of flaw. As if my heart didn’t get the memo that this chapter is closed.

There are moments where I don’t want to let the love go at all. Where it feels sacred. Like something I’m meant to carry. And then there are moments like now, where it hurts so badly that I wonder why I have to feel this at all. Why the cost of loving has to feel so punishing. Why life can feel so cruel in the way it asks us to move forward while dragging the weight of what mattered behind us.

It feels like drowning sometimes.

I keep asking myself if this pain exists because I refuse to let go of hope, hope for some future where words could be exchanged again, where connection could exist, where friendship could be held without harm. And then I turn that question inward and it sharpens: What does it say about me that I can’t accept reality? That I live with hopes of things that will never be?

I know that someone who could hold gratitude would be grateful for the time they got… and I am grateful, but I’m also sad.

Sad that I ruined everything.

Sad that I couldn’t do better.

Sad that the one person I felt the most connection with I can never say hello to again.