That Silly Feeling - Tumblr Posts

Grieving Forecast: Warning at Noon, A Remote Control Experience

I spend too much time on my couch, it’s made for two but inhabited by one, my leg draped over the armrest, claiming that little space. There’s a remote control in hand, I flip through channels, cheek resting against the plastic surface.

At noon, the news anchor’s voice fills the room, warning of looming emotions at the doorstep that will swoop you off your feet, a level 4 scare. “Stay wary,” they caution, urging viewers to heed the call.

But, I skip past it and play commercials, it just becomes noise, and then I reach for my phone instead. I check the weather app, even though I already know it’s bad outside. But really, I’m just hoping to catch a glimpse of when the clouds in my head will clear up, of when this pain will ease, when the hurt will dissipate and vanish into thin air. Before I can see, a notification pings on my phone from the news app that distracts me for a moment, it reads along the lines:

“Woman Doesn’t Know What to Say for the Funeral Even Though Nobody has Died Yet, More Details at Seven.”

Except, I’m aware it’s inevitable, that death is relentless, an unstoppable force. It’s the unknown timing that scares me, that creeping preemptive grief that I’ll eventually deal with. It’s a dilemma I fight with. Then, out of nowhere, the crack of thunder startles me from behind, and I still jump, even though I anticipated it.

“Woman Wants to Stop Time to Live in That Perfect Moment Forever, Discovers Healing in Memory and Remembrance, Headline at Eight.”

With a deep breath, I find the courage and do the first brave thing in a long time: grabbing an umbrella as a precaution. It’s a small gesture, but a big step towards a new start. Stepping outside, I find unexpected sun shining onto me that wasn’t forecasted, but it’s not unwelcome. After so long of being inside, I accept it with open arms. I can breathe. I can feel grass grow beneath my feet.