Losing My Best Friend Taught Me How to Live (But That Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Miss Him)
When my best friend died, I learned how to live
Topic: grief
When my best friend died, I learned how to live
Grief, in some form, is a sadly inescapable aspect of love on this earth.
I questioned my existence, thinking that if my little brother—the brightest and most loving soul I had ever known—couldn’t find happiness, then why should I?
“We’re all just walking each other home.” – Ram Dass
We hurt. We feel. We adjust. We emerge. Not without sore spots and an aching heart, but we do survive and we do heal.
Healing isn't pretty. It's a messy, painful, and exhaustive process.
We need to embrace the suck and allow ourselves to sit in all the feels.
Giving space isn’t a line to use to get out of uncomfortable situations.
Once I started opening up, I really started healing.
Losing someone to suicide is traumatic.
Within art, there is a safe space where it is OK not to be OK.
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