Grief is waking up in tears at the thought of another day without her and thinking about the last car accident when you were with her.

Grief is sobbing in public and trying to catch the snot with your short sleeve.

Grief is crying into your food you used to share and not being able to eat.

Grief is screaming in the shower and not being able to wash.

Grief is crying in the tub, at midnight in the other room, and still waking your husband.

Grief is crying on the way to the grocery store in the middle of the day.

Grief is not being able to sleep while you think about how sad you are.

Grief is not being able to look at her pictures, posts, clothes, etc. without crying, but you put them on anyway.

Grief is not being able to write, to read, to breath without thinking about her and crying into your laptop or book.

Grief is working out to exhaust yourself in an attempt to empty the pain inside.

Grief is hugging a towel and filling it with your tears as a comfort system.

Grief is grabbing a bottle of wine, looking for a friend, and then day drinking in the park.

Grief is remembering all the happy faces, loud laughs, and random moments that you want to remember the most.

Grief is feeling like you have no one to talk to because she’s not calling you.

Grief is not hearing what others say, but knowing they care, even when it doesn’t feel like enough.

Grief is wanting to hear, see, or smell her just one more time.

Grief is traveling and knowing there’s beauty around, but not being able to appreciate it.

Grief feels like just going through the motions.

Grief is a lengthy tunnel, but the light is always at the end.

Grief is having to deal with the loss, but wanting to be as far from it as possible.

Grief is going into public hoping you will cry less, or at least quieter.

Grief is swinging with headphones and tears, and scaring all the happy children away.

Grief is sitting on the bathroom floor so you can grab TP, wipe face, and put in toilet.

Grief is smoking a cigarette, even though you hate them, because you don’t know what else to do.

Grief is not wanting to be in the house where you received the phone call.

Grief is screaming while driving so your dogs don’t have to hear you at home.

Grief is realizing a year has gone by and you survived though you felt like dying.

Grief is having to pull over because your windshield wipers aren’t working – they can’t wipe away tears.

Grief is not wanting to get out of bed as if you can delay the sadness for today.

Grief is eating to fill a void – this does not work!

Grief is when no one can help you, but it helps to have them there.

Grief is being strangely comforted by strangers – hug, prayer.

Grief is crying at the airport when they ask to see your bag.

Grief is dehydration and starvation because nothing matters but sadness.

Grief is crying while trying to explain why you’re crying.

Grief is a process that requires someone to be open.

Grief can ruin productivity and change someone on multiple levels.

Grief is dealt with in different ways and that’s ok.

I love you.