The Waves

The waves of grief don’t feel like I’ve balanced the surfboard just yet.

It feels like I’m looking at the shoreline and I’m getting hit by waves before I even see them.

I want so badly to be through this,

because I’m tired of all the feelings that come with the pain.

The shame. The humiliation.

The doubt.

The self-blame.

And every contradicting emotion you can think of.

I am exhausted.

I’m glad I got to experience a good day.

And I’m also frustrated that it’s 1 a.m. and I can’t sleep because all I can do is cry.

I hate that I feel guilty for doing what I think is right.

I hate that my ability to see perspectives and angles beyond my own

makes it so hard to feel like I can actually own my own

while someone else gets to own theirs.

Then toss in the guilt for this even being my biggest issue right now,

when the world is on fire

and kids are starving

and families are being torn apart.

I just feel mentally overloaded.

I don’t even feel like I’m a good enough person

to believe it’s okay

to have a standard

for how I should be treated by others.

I’m just tired.

So tired.

I want the world to love.

I want to love.