## Grief

Grief... it's a complex emotion we humans have our own ways of dealing with.

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<center>Photo credit: @zayedsakib</center><br>

Lately, I've been dealing with a lot of grief myself. Some of which are mine; with its slightly muted haze around the edges as I always tend to block out emotions that are difficult to handle. And some of which are from others. And seeing, living through the grief of these people, it’s like seeing life in a movie, with different perspectives and emotions altogether.

One of my older relatives, my aunt to be exact is, most probably at the end of her line. Death might have just spread its arm and embraced her as I write this, and I fear she might not live to see the light of the day tomorrow. Through all this, the most atrocious feeling that I’m finding tough to deal with is that even though I want nothing more than to stop what is happening, there is nothing I can do.

While she breathes in the air from oxygen tanks in the ICU, my family gasp for air outside of the room, tear-stricken faces and hammered lungs fighting to breathe another day just for her, watching, *praying* for her to come back. Bribing god with good omens and obedience, trying to win over mercy.

My own mother is among them. And strangely, I'm not all that concerned about her.

You see, she is a professional crier, and I'm not saying it in a mocking tone. I love that about her, almost envy it. Because criers, they let their emotions out with every droplet of sodium that leaks through their eyes. There are no bottled-up emotions or hidden sorrow. They embrace their grief with open arms and then wave it goodbye like a gentle lover. They know how to soothe it, how to heal it and how to set it free.

Who I'm worried about, stands on the opposite side of the spectrum.

These people, with blinding smiles on their faces and optimism on their tongues, tend to look the other way when grief lurks in. It's not that they are ignorant. They know exactly what is coming, but they shy away from it, in hopes that it might make the pain, when it hits, just a tad bit less. Others call them aloof and carefree because of their ways, sometimes even heartless, when what goes on inside them is another story altogether.

And it shows through the little cracks that come with the facade they pull. Like a small tremble of hand while taking something. Unfocused tired eyes that try to hide behind smiles. You see them talk for hours at length, just so they are not left with their mind. And when the lights out and everyone goes to sleep, you see them sitting down on a chair with their lights on, looking lost and... Broken.

And I get them. It's not easy, to let go of the person you spent over sixty years with. It's not easy, taking in the fact that this time she might be gone for good, Leaving you alone in this cold empty world. The mare thought that there would be no one there to hear your mindless rambles, no one there to bicker and fight with over simple things, no one there who would grab onto your hand tightly when nights became tough, it’s no less painful than a knife to the heart.

I'm worried about these people. They smile with their eyes as they die with their loved ones. They stay with their grief and keep it around like a friend to nurse on cold empty nights, alone. And in the end, it’s the grief that ends up taking their lives as well.