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My dear,

You were never meant to pick up the pieces of a life cut too short.

It is the cruelty of existence that requires you to soldier on. It is not God’s will, it is not fate. It is…happenstance. And you have met it with wide eyed courage.

You must feel forgotten. Overlooked and overwhelmed. Angry at the world or God or the Universe for leaving you behind.

Guilty for your anger. Guilty for your rage. Guilty for all the roiling emotions that ebb and flow with the circadian rhythm of the day.

Because you’re the one who stayed.

My dear, I see you. I see your youth. I see your bright soul alight with childish wonder.

I see how it’s dimmed now that you can no longer explore the vast expanse of this incandescent world with the man you love.

You’re a changeling. Alone in the bizarre shadow called Earth now stripped of light.

But please remember…

Grief is not attached to morality.

Grief simply is.

You will feel knives of anger, shards of hatred, and moments of spite. You will feel sparks of joy, bubbles of love, and waves of compassion. And all this will barrage you in staccato rhymes of confusion.

Because you were left behind.

But my dear, you are not forgotten. Though it may seem that way.

You were left behind. But we are by your side.

By mshipstory


I'm Lindsay Adams. I'm passionate about history, teaching, and writing.

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