Grief is a noun. It is defined by feelings of deep sorrow. The word, “Grief” originates from grever, which in Old French is “to burden.”
Tonight I am grieving. The weight that locks itself onto my sternum, my rib cage, and my gut – I can identify it clearly now. This feeling is grief.
Tonight I am grieving, feeling deep sorrow. Tonight the burden is sitting heavily on my chest. To paint a picture, this grief is a dark gray substance similar to liquid mercury. The heaviness locks itself into the spaces between my ribs. Grief surrounds my beating heart like a vice. Heartache. The weight sinks deep into my gut like an anchor.
Tonight I am grieving. “Grief,” the internet states, is “deep sorrow caused especially by death.”
Tonight I am grieving. Loss, burden, heartache. Death.
Tonight I am grieving small puzzle pieces that made up the whole of who I am. These pieces, these losses, I will never get back. I can never get them back. So I am grieving. I am grieving each time a piece of me died, perished, faded away.
Tonight I feel heartache, real physical pain to my core. I experience this feeling often, consistently. Because I grieve.
I grieve for a little girl
I grieve for a child
I grieve for a young woman
I grieve for them all
I take all of the grief and I heave the burden onto my chest until I can no longer breathe.