The Mortician's Assistant

Send "Dance with me" to pull my muse in for a slow dance.

Trauma. It doesn’t eke itself out over time. It doesn’t split itself manageably into bite-sized chunks and distribute itself equally throughout your life. Trauma is all or nothing. A tsunami wave of destruction. A tornado of unimaginable awfulness that whooshes into your life - just for one key moment - and wreaks such havoc that, in just an instant, your whole world will never be the same again

They say happiness is like good health. You don’t notice it until it’s gone

Then my heart grew hot and a rage of emotions welled up inside me. Anger, pity, fear, panic, hatred, confusion, despair, sadness, madness. And I wanted to scream and shout and tear the walls down. I wanted to hit something, hit someone. Hit him.

Missing you comes in waves. Tonight I’m drowning.

I think grief is like a really ugly couch. It never goes away. You can decorate around it; you can slap a doily on top of it; you can push it to the corner of the room—but eventually, you learn to live with it.