Come lay with me. I wanna talk about nothing with someone that means something.
I miss you more than I can bear, but we had our time together, and I have to let go. I have to let you go.
Dom Cobb in Inception. (via elytra)
Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.
Anne Carson, preface to “Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides” (via lifeinpoetry)
The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret. As surgeons, as scientists, we’re taught to learn from and rely on books, on definitions, on definitives. But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow.
I just wake up each day in a slightly different place. Grief is like a moving river, so that’s what I mean by it’s always changing. It’s a strange thing to say because I’m at heart an optimistic person, but I would say in some ways it just gets worse. It’s just that the more time that passes, the more you miss someone.
Multiply it by infinity, take it to the depths of forever and you’ll still only have a glimpse of how much I love you.