Grief is strange like that…

 

Grief is strange like that…

it doesn’t arrive all at once.
It slips into the quiet moments,
into habits your hands still remember,
into the reflex of reaching for a phone
before your heart catches up with reality. 

There are seconds when you forget.
Seconds when it feels normal to call,
to type,
to hear their voice on the other end.
And then it hits —
they’re not just one call away anymore. 

Loss doesn’t only hurt because someone is gone.
It hurts because love doesn’t know where to go.
It lingers.
It waits.
It keeps looking for the place it used to rest. 

You grieve in pauses.
In silence.
In the spaces where conversations once lived.
In the moments when your day feels heavy
for no obvious reason at all. 

And yet…
that reaching says something beautiful.
It says the love was real.
It says the connection mattered.
It says some bonds don’t disappear —
they just change form. 

Be gentle with yourself.
There is no timeline for this kind of missing.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting.
It means learning how to carry the love
without the pain breaking you. 

Because even if they’re not one call away anymore,
they are still close —
in memories,
in quiet thoughts,
and in the heart that still reaches for them.