I am actually enjoying my solitude. I am in the groove of my routine. I feel introspective daily, ready to take on challenges without falling apart, resolute, sometimes even pensive... But the pensive stillness is so much better than the hectic raging of grief.
Instead of jagged edges, my heart now feels smooth. Tender, yes... Sore, yes... But smooth and quiet.
I can breathe. I can breathe again.
I think a lot. A lot. I worry, I wonder, I ponder, I fear, I feel, I remember, I hope, I imagine, I think. A lot.
I let the stillness envelope me and I think.
The clanging loudness of my internal struggle and my external struggle has ceased. Even when I'm feeling heavy, the stillness surrounds me. I breathe through it.