I'm watching a show right now, it doesn't matter what, wherein a cast of years' experience together is portraying the loss of one of their members. It's not the death scene getting to me, but the mourning scene. Right now ... the sight of a pair of cmpassionate hands, encompassing someone's back - the sound of weeping - is probably more than I can bear ... and yet, perhaps, just the right thing, too.
We are near an anniversary of sadness, me and those I love most dearly. Today was bright, beautiful, not very cold, and empty of a certain life.
Tonight, I just have a terrible headache, and I can't breathe, because even if I'm not actively weeping, I'm still close enough to a sob that the congestion has overtaken me.
That, and I never have breathed right since that life was taken.
Christ, loss is so horrible.
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