It was without warning that we found ourselves in the Grief Islands... Alone. Adrift. Our lives splintered and shattered. We had lost one of our dearest, before his prime. Our lives will never be the same. I am not sure which one of us first washed ashore on the sandy beaches of Pretendland, breathless and vulnerable... But here we are together, and alone, stranded in its complex archipelago trying to see our way back to the mainland.
Friday 18 September 2015
"It doesn't make it worse," I said. "One doesn't compound the other. Its like two injuries, they will heal independently of each other. Only one of them will never heal completely, it will gnaw and gnash and leave the deepest scars. That one is life-changing, an aching yearning, the other is quiet sadness."
