At first I felt guilty, until I reminded myself that I had been down this path before and knew that this was the way of grief—that it would come and go in waves, surprising with its overwhelming intensity in a moment where you thought yourself past it, imagined you’d become accustomed to the constant pain. Walking along the shore as the water harmlessly lapped at your feet until a wave came along that knocked you over and dragged you back into the ocean, drowning you in sorrow. But even when you made it back to shore, that grief would continue to flow and ebb and there would be moments where
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