Happy After All

by Maisey Yates

There were so many times I wished people would say something that simple, that easy to me. That instead of trying to make me feel better they could just say sorry. That instead of telling me I could try again, that there was probably a reason it had happened, they would have just said sorry.

When your own pain makes other people so uncomfortable they can’t even look at you, it’s unbearable.

I also know that grief goes in waves. That sometimes the tide rolls out and you can see all these beautiful things left behind. Sea glass and seashells on the seashore. That sometimes the waves come back in hard and leave you breathless, drowning.

I’m tired of feeling heavy all the time. I’m tired of grief. I’m tired of living a life I didn’t choose.

I get why people can’t handle it when they haven’t experienced that. Because they don’t want to know. They don’t want to know what you can go through and survive. They don’t want to know how horrible it can be. The stuff you have to keep on living with.

We choose joy. We choose each other. We choose to live. That’s what a happy ending is.