All of a sudden, I felt I maybe ready to face my grieve after seven years of stonewalling and a front of evasive strength. See, I have built me, out of grieve, a huge wall which behind it stood a horror beyond my comprehension. Every time I feel that somewhere this monster is breaking a brick at this wall, I take a peak only to be appall by dark waves of sadness more than I can bear, so I quickly close that burning hole and put back that brick.
But grieve, like Gog and Magog, persistently hammer through the wall and eventually will break it to crumble- only to sweep me someday with an overwhelming emotions.
You know what… I think I am not ready yet. Since I am still going around and round the subject instead of facing it head on.
Maybe another time. For now… I will let the wall stand.