Let yourself grieve. Take the time out to look at withering plants and cloudy days. To read worn-out books and eat left-overs. Allow yourself to taste your tears and feel your sobs. It doesn’t make you small, it doesn’t make you big. It makes you you and that’s all there is.
You don’t have to ignore that heavy feeling in your stomach, or your chest. You don’t have to suppress the shivers and trembles that bequeath your flesh. You don’t have to wipe your clammy hands, you don’t have to quieten your sniffles. You don’t have to be mature or strong-headed. You don’t owe that to anyone. You can listen to the child in you, you can reach out to the child in you. You can tell them everything they never had the pleasure of hearing. Recount your failures, recount your mistakes, recount your losses, there’s no harm in it.
You don’t have to respond to or engage with all the “negative” thoughts but you don’t have to shun them out either. When you call them negative you judge a part of you that you have no control over. You don’t have to drive them away for no reason at all. After all, they’re (of) human too.
Let yourself cradle the pieces of your broken heart. Honor the ones that won’t go back in anymore. Maybe bury them in the sand or wash them off in the sea, whatever floats your boat. Bid them farewell, they did good. Tell them how the rest of your heart will be with them sooner or later. But for now it needs to live on.
It needs to live on and it can’t carry around the dangling, broken pieces anymore. And for you to release them, you need to hold them. And for you to hold them, you need to look at them, acknowledge them. And for you to acknowledge them, you need to face your grief.
So let yourself face your grief. Let yourself look at happiness and feel wistful. There’s no hurry, you’ll find it when you’re supposed to. Let yourself be surrounded by love and friendship and allow it to not lift your spirits, if it doesn’t. Take the time out to play minor chords and smoke that cigarette. Take the time out to take tests you might fail at. Take the time out to meet people who’re going to disappoint you. Let yourself taste the cardboard of expensive pizza. The bitterness of expensive coffee. Let yourself feel the elusivity of attractive people. Of attractive opportunities. Let yourself see the dependency of love. The expectations of friendships. The attachment of comfort.
Allow the rain to be a damper on your plans, allow the sun to leave sooner than it was supposed to. Allow yourself to cry over all of it anyway.
Take the time out to grieve, so you don’t make the mistake of passing it on.
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