It's not alright

people tell me that grieving is a process. that it cycles through, up and down, forward and backward, just a little healing at a time. people tell me that, wherever I am in that process, it's alright. whatever I feel or think at different stages, it's alright. but it's not.

it's not alright that it's been this long and I still don't feel stable enough to get a teaching position for the fall.

it's not alright that I still don't know how to answer people who ask me how I'm doing.

it's not alright that some of my favorite people right now are only my friends because she's dead.

it's not alright that I still have so many days that I'm mad at her for leaving and mad at God for taking her.

it's not alright that my limited creative abilities were only useful for designing her tombstone.

it's not alright that the main reason I'm excited about going to the coast is because it'll be far away from the constant reminders of her.

it's not alright that I have to avoid twitter when I know people are posting about their trip to Africa, because I can't handle the kind of meltdowns it causes when I look at their pictures.

it's not alright that I spent the week helping the Beavers move into a new house... in Thomasville... when I know they're aching to be 8,000 miles from here.

it's not alright that I had to sit in a room with 3 of my favorite kids on Sunday night and try and explain to them that there was no earthly reason for her to die... that she died when her body was perfectly healthy.

it's not alright that Ma cries while writing about her in papers for school, and I can't fix it.

it's not alright that the tattoo on my wrist is as close as she feel most days.

it's not alright that I still don't sleep well, because I'm awake thinking about her.

it's not alright that my heart still aches for her like this every. friggin. day. when nearly a year has passed.


it's not alright. All of this still feels like punishment.