How It Feels to Float

by Helena Fox

Grief feels like this: an okay day and a good day and an okay day then a bad. Bad that follows and empties you. Bad like a sinkhole. ° ° ° ° ° It feels like an unrelenting urge to lay your head down on the table, wherever you are, whomever you are with.

It feels like a night of vivid dreams, and when you wake, all day you hold one dream close because in it everything was back to how it once was.

You can’t escape your history. It’s like a river that follows you, blood that moves without you thinking. The past turns corners to find you.