I know this feeling. It’s like a rock that sits in the pit of your stomach. It’s foreshadowing. It’s impending doom.

Me: “Hello Grief”

Grief: “You know I am here, right?”

Me: “Yes, but I really don’t have time for you. I have things to do and the clock is running out.”

Grief: “Well, I will be here. You know I won’t go away until you deal with me.”

Me: “Bite me.”

Grief: “Oh, I will, I will.”

–Rebecca Barnes

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