Tonight, I Grieve; The Weight Tailored For My Heart

Tonight, provoked by a conversation about my impending hair loss, my emotions returned. The light of reality was shed brightly on what this next month may look like and I have begun to feel again. 

Amidst a sobbing fit, my mom gently whispered, “you’re grieving.”  Something about that word resonated so deeply within me that I shooed her away in an attempt to capture the feeling.

Grieving is the perfect word. I have begun grieving. 

I am grieving the loss of what I thought my sophomore year of college would look like. I am grieving my first year of in-person classes. I am grieving the little moments. I am grieving the morning walks to the village to grab coffee with a friend, even though I don’t really like coffee. I am grieving being bored in class. I am grieving the new friendships that might have formed. I am grieving the parties I will miss out on. I am grieving laying on the floor, laughing about the scooter ride home the night before and wondering how we made it with three people piled on the back of one tiny vehicle. I am grieving the boys I might have kissed. I am grieving the laughter. I am grieving the normalcy. I am grieving the soon to be loss of my hair. I am grieving the feeling of being beautiful in a “traditional manner”, the kind a college boy would recognize. I am grieving looking healthy. I am grieving feeling attractive. I am grieving the liberty of making my own schedule.

I am grieving the endless list of things I will never know exist that I should be grieving.

I wish that for a moment I could give you the weight of this saturated feeling, tailored just for me that lays on my heart. I wish you could try it on for size and get a mini glimpse into what my unique heartbreak feels like. It would only take a moment, merely a second, to understand. Then, I would snatch it right back. For no one should have to bear this weight. And yet, I will. Because I can. And I will do it as best as I am able. 

Tonight, I grieve.