grief-and-loss

Though these words will never find you, I hope that you knew I was thinking of you today_.. and that I was wishing you every happiness.Love Always,The girl you loved once.

When you experience loss, people say you__l move through the 5 stages of grief_.Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance_.. What they don__ tell you is that you__l cycle through them all every day.

The last time I felt alive _ I was looking into your eyes.Breathing your air_. touching your skin_ Saying goodbye_.The last time I felt alive_. I was dying.

It__ painful, loving someone from afar.Watching them _ from the outside.The once familiar elements of their life reduced to nothing more than occasional mentions in conversations and faces changing in photographs_..They exist to you now as nothing more than living proof that something can still hurt you _ with no contact at all.

I miss that feeling of connection.Knowing he was out there somewhere thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him.

If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard.And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart.

I had someone once who made every day mean something.And now_. I am lost_.And nothing means anything anymore.

There is an ocean of silence between us_ and I am drowning in it.

_the sad part is, that I will probably end up loving you without you for much longer than I loved you when I knew you.Some people might find that strange.But the truth of it is that the amount of love you feel for someone and the impact they have on you as a person, is in no way relative to the amount of time you have known them.

Dead. Even in the silence of my mind I cannot think the word. I cannot acknowledge this most obvious and terrible of truths.

You are never old enough to lose your mother.

Death finds you in such strange poses. How long can you cry, until the rivers gone and dry.

But I'm not ready to let Winn-Dixie go.

Heaven is a place where all the dogs you've ever loved come to greet you.

We cannot honor those we have lost if we lose our minds. - Charmainism

I held the cardboard and felt its scissor-cut edge. And for the first time I understood the shape of my grief. I could feel exactly how big it was. It was the strangest feeling, like holding something the size of a mountain in my arms. You have to be patient, he had said. If you want to see something very much, you just have to be patient and wait. There was no patience in my waiting, but time had passed all the same, and worked its careful magic. And now, holding the card in my hands and feeling its edges, all the grief had turned into something different. It was simply love.

Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" [Hermione] asked."No," said Ron and Harry together.Hermione sighed and laid down her quill."Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode.""Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her her quill again.

When Death, or adverse Fortune's ruthless gale,Tears our best hopes away, the wounded HeartExhausted, leans on all that can impartThe charm of Sympathy; her mutual wailHow soothing! never can her warm tears failTo balm our bleeding grief's severest smart;Nor wholly vain feign'd Pity's solemn art,Tho' we should penetrate her sable veil.Concern, e'en known to be assum'd, our painsRespecting, kinder welcome far acquiresThan cold Neglect, or Mirth that Grief profanes.Thus each faint Glow-worm of the Night conspires,Gleaming along the moss'd and darken'd lanes,To cheer the Gloom with her unreal fires.