Grief is a hard and cruel thing. Sometimes life goes on for days and we leave our grief behind or so we think, and then something happens or someone says something and it all comes back.

Tonight our youth group had a bible study just like we normally do every month, but tonight we had it outside around the campfire and afterwards we ate supper and discussed a wide variety of very normal things when I heard a voice saying “it was the worst thing that happened in my life!” I don’t know what they were talking about, but it made me angry. I wanted to shake her, to remind her about the day that was truly the worst day of her life, the day we found out our friend was gone forever…
I didn’t say anything. I wanted her to have a normal life. It’s been 4 years. I want her to be able to mourn trivial things and not feel guilty for thinking small things are important. I know in my head that she had no intention of making anyone think it was anything comparable to the grief she knew before, but my heart rebels.

I can’t say that anymore, can’t be flippant like that, it was taken from me in an instant.
One moment that changed my life forever.

Not even just my life, but me.

Who I am,

What I am.

I can never be the same.


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