most definitely an oxymoron. And my constant mood.
Not sure when this conflicted feeling started….was it the day Zayla died? Or perhaps, it was actually building all along. But those two words placed together is exactly how I feel….All. The. Time.
Last night I had a conversation with a couple women…..maybe the few drinks I had made it a bit easy to kinda lay it all out “there”, but anyways it was nice to just be honest and real. It went something along the lines of, hey thanks for talking to me….many times I feel shunned or people don’t know what to say. I get it. Grief is uncomfortable. It’s painful.
It’s also life.
My response to these very open and loving women….Fuck man, just say something. Anything. I prefer a conversation over silence. I live in silence everyday with my own thoughts and feelings. Everyday. And yes, it’s true I’m generally on the cusp of losing my shit daily. But, the loneliness feeling is only compounded by the silence.
Grief is not contagious.
Tomorrow, Jason and I are going to Chicago to attend a Pearl Jam concert. This concert will be bittersweet for numerous reasons….but mainly because a lot of the PJ songs that we love and listen to…..connect to….is due to our youth and what we loved at that point in time. It is also easy to get caught up in the lyrics that have meaning, especially when a part of your heart is missing.
Zay’s favorite PJ song was Alive….and she would sing that song in a way that you could feel that she was just so happy to be alive.
Torture Is….I’m still Alive, and she is not.