Shape-shifter

 

My sister and I, we don’t share everything. There are things we keep to ourselves, but somehow we manage to understand each other. We don’t always share the same views on everything, yet most of the time we do. We share similar taste in mostly everything too.

Maybe that’s the thing with sisters. There’s like an unarticulated code above our heads, connecting to each other, constantly.

 

People say we look alike. But we are likely different.

She’s always tougher, while I’m always the crybaby. She’d defend me in arguments with our parents, because she knows me. She knows I’ll cry.

She’s always warmer, while I’m cold most of the time. Distant.

She’s always sociable. People like her easily. She can blend in well, while I choose to be steady on my own feet and observe.

She’s the reason I feel less lonely. Her presence is.

I am missing the breakfast table of us. Me waking up and found her on the table downstairs, munching on something. Moments of us exchanging banters and jokes we found on Twitter.

Now that she's not here anymore, sitting there makes my heart felt like squeezed.

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If the moment you know that you lose someone forever is acute, then the aftermath is latent. The void that is strangely heavy. It’s present but not visible.

It’s not easy. Never been easy. Even weeks, and probably months, and years after. People deal with sadness differently and that can be stressful, heartbreaking too. When you are sad and you have to see people you love being sad; that is not easy.

I’ve been trying to put my feelings aside to be able to function normally for work. To function normally as a good daughter too.

I’ve been trying to recognize my own emotions, finding ways how to deal with a new world thrown at my face.

Been trying to find out how to deal with grief because just to acknowledge the five stage of grief is not enough. What is the five stage of grief anyway? It only applies to heartbreaks.

And this one is not it.

Then I found one article that resonates well to how I feel towards grief. Yes, I was, and probably will always be, seeking for validation of my own emotions on articles I found on Google. That's how clueless I could be; I couldn't seem to define it myself that I needed somebody else's words to decode my feelings.

You can never understand grief until you experience one. As much as I hope others don’t have to, the truth is we all will experience it someday.

People with grief don’t do “move on” like what people usually relate to when it comes to losing someone. It’s not the relationship, it’s the person who will never come back. As in literally. As in forever. 

Grief doesn’t just disappear. It changes its form over time. 

It is true, grief is a shape-shifter.

"Today my grief might feel like a tiger clawing at my skin, and next month it could feel like a dolphin diving through the waves, it just depends" 

These days, my grief is a Dark Fog. Or maybe a Dementor.