Grief is evil.
Everyone always talks about taking time to grieve and coping with loss, and all that bullshit to excuse his or her selfish behaviour. Grief doesn’t help. It doesn’t heal. It plays tricks on you and makes you doubt yourself. It puts thoughts into your head and convinces you to “acknowledge or accept” them as truth. Grief is a monster that can consume you whole.
I gave him a lot. Although never the lines of anything you could capture in a snapshot or frame and place on the mantle for all to ooh and aah, but I gave him something. Self-satisfaction.
My pride, my conviction, my doing what I wanted despite everyone else... all those were traits he possessed, and I inherited. Proudly. I spoke my mind and never allowed steps on my toes. I have a kind heart and a short fuse and these were things for which everyone faulted him. He saw them in me and appreciated them.
