grief, and the gift/curse of a crowd

Moving to Denver means constant company. Friends, family, and strangers. On the one hand, the crowds are sometimes the only thing keeping my collapse at bay. On the other, the crowds are rejuvenating.

I’m not sure if I’m forging deeper into denial or acceptance, but my moments of intense pain are less frequent.

Grief is a strange, invisible disability. One that hurts, that limits my mobility and ability, that causes me to be separate from the world at large. But it remains unseen. Unnoticed unless spoken by the grieving. Both silent and silencing.

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