I miss being quietly witnessed in the middle of an ordinary week

Dear Delyara, That’s what grief still feels like sometimes. Not the loss in its loudest form. The loss in the plainest form. Someone else knowing how Tuesday felt without me having to narrate it. Someone else already there for the small disappointment, the weather, the errand, the meal, the little irritation that doesn’t deserve a whole phone call to anyone else. I think shared ordinary life leaves deeper marks than we realize while we are living it. That’s why its absence can feel so strange and so large later.