Why this grief?

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Why this grief?

Grief that keeps me up through the night. Sobbing, shaking, crying aloud to the empty room. Tears wet my pillow. I curl up and hold myself. Alone.

I remember the good times. Waldorf Christmas fairs, beeswax candle dipping, herds of children running underfoot, felted gnomes peeking out, holding vigil. Magical cross country skiing at Lapland Lakes, hiking to the top of Adirondack peaks, foolishly banging a pot at the large black bear rummaging through the campground at Marcy Dam. Sharing such good food, making a home, raising a family. Dreaming together of a better world, without war, without hatred, without pain.

Without pain? What of the pain that heals. The pain that tells me something is wrong, something is broken, something needs my attention, now!

I remember the painful times. Conflict, born of my narrow mindedness, of my jealousy, of my fear. Conflict chosen. Withholding my trust, my feelings, my love. Arguing for hours, for days. Withdrawing into myself, pulling back from the family I loved, getting lost in addiction and work.

Why this grief?

She has taken a lover. A friend, holding her, loving her, giving her what I no longer can. I should be happy. I wanted this: I asked for separation.

Why this grief?

To show me what I loved, what I lost.

To wake me up.

To remind me not to hold back, not to withdraw, not to hide my love.

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