It’s been a strange few weeks. I’ve been watching, mostly from my window, how the world as we know it started collapsing, how the streets suddenly became quiet, and my mind pretty unquiet.
And I didn’t care much for any silver linings. I didn’t want to blog about the empty supermarket shelves or share endless toilet paper memes. I wanted to scream that one can’t eat silver linings, and where you all can shove them. I didn’t want to visit virtual galleries or do free courses. And I sure wasn’t about to start macrame or origami. I wanted to curl up and cry. I didn’t want to write a song about it, or write that dormant novel we’ve each got in us. I didn’t want to smile. I wanted to fall apart. I didn’t want to be strong, be the heroine the world needs. I wanted to be pathetic, and angry. I didn’t want to look for new opportunities, and didn’t want to add to the now imminent deluge of livestreams and online classes - I was determined to keep my lips locked and not let a single note escape them ever again.
I wanted everyone to shut up, and let me bury my plans, my dreams, my security. Let me bury my passions, my hopes, my comfort. Let me bury my world and everything that’s familiar, let me lie in my unquiet grave and just feel the pain.
I wanted there to be a voice to tell me, it’s okay, it’s okay to feel your grief. It’s okay to put your smile back into its box and kick it as far as you can. It’s okay to let the world turn without you for a bit. Nobody will even notice.
And I felt like a failure for needing to, when everyone else seemed to manage just fine. But I can't cover up and can't pretend. And I don't care if I'm alone in saying it, but .... It’s okay to let yourself feel your grief.