the weight of grief

Grief is a shadow that lingers long, a whisper in the quiet, a name caught in the throat, a seat left empty at the table. It comes like waves— some gentle, some fierce, pulling you under, then leaving you gasping for air. It is love with nowhere to go, memories pressing against the ribs, a hand reaching out to someone who is no longer there. Time does not erase it, nor does it ask you to forget. But one day, the weight may shift— not lighter, just easier to bear. And in the spaces they once filled, you will find them still— in laughter, in stories, in the quiet moments where love refuses to fade.