I thought for the past two days on how I’ll write about Ryan’s death. Rather than allow my brain to just send words to my fingers and through the keyboard…raw emotion, in my head, works best.
It hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts to think about it. It hurts to cry. And someone asking me if I’m okay, or saying they’ll be there for me, or telling me how much I’m in their thoughts or prayers…they’re all appreciated, but they won’t bring him back. They may minimalize the feeling of loss for a little while, but the feelings resurface, and so does the pain.
The preliminary emotion, one that bears no simile, metaphor or synonym…it hurts.