I wanted to touch base on guilt, as I believe it has played a role in my grief with Michael's loss.
The guilt that he died and I lived
The guilt of the things he never got to experience that I know have been.
The guilt of having eyes to still see this world's beauty and ears to hear its melodies.
The guilt of knowing that he would have handled this pain, loss, and life better then I could, if it had been me to go instead.
The guilt that is created in my over-thinking mind...fictional and factual.
The guilt has sub-sided though, as I know it is a belt of weights I buckled around my waist...a belt that never was supposed to weigh on my hips, my being, my soul.
You see, guilt was never a component of our life (even though I may have used it as a defense mechanism in a disagreement...bad Taryn), so it makes no sense that I would make it a part of my life now, and the love that is still ours.
But I apologize, to Michael and the others around me, for the moments where I let guilt's claws take their grasp on a moment that could have been put in the light it deserved.
Now I can't say that it doesn't creep up at moments where life is a-glow and I feel as if I'm surrounded by a bubble of positivity...but those are just the workings of my brain....
not my heart.
“Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.”
-Coco Chanel
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