there’s this aching, gnawing pain in the middle of my chest.

it’s ever present.

some days it’s gentle, and some days it’s not.

on gentle days, it’s a piece of me i hold close. a bittersweet whisper reminds me to cherish the memories i have and to live my days with intention and joy.

on the bad days, though, it’s suffocating.

on bad days it’s a raging tempest that threatens to swallow me whole, the echoes of everything that i’ve lost give me no reprieve. the ache becomes a sharp pain that steals my breath and saps any strength i hold.

i never know what kind of day it will be.

i am unable to predict whether my wounds will be tender and healing or if they’ll be open and raw.

lately, it seems every day is a bad day.

i’m trying. i’m trying so hard not to be swallowed,

but sometimes i wonder if i’ll get some peace if i let myself sink to the depths of my grief.

i know ill come out of it. i know ill breach the surface.

but today is simply not that day.