Nestlings

by Nat Cassidy

Isn’t it funny how, in life, tragedies and traumas can just pile up, willy-nilly, but as soon as we decide to set it all down in writing, there’s gotta be a point? A “why?” Some sort of thesis or payoff or grand unified theory. Otherwise, it’s just gratuitous.

“Why?” It’s our holiest question—we’re always asking it. Even if, most of the time, it only leads to either another “Why?” or to the universe finally smacking you with, “Well, why the fuck not?”

This book is my attempt at articulating something happening in real time—a certain emotional homelessness. It’s lecture notes written during a crash course on grief.

Grief is the space between two states of being: who you were and who you are.

I think Healing begins when you finally recognize there is no moving on. Only moving forward. You don’t actually leave anything behind. You carry it with you. That’s why the process of healing can feel so slow: you’re carrying more weight now.