My Dear Grief,

Come closer. I want to see your face. I want to know you. I have held you at bay for so long even as I knew you needed my attention. I made myself busy. I was afraid.

I was afraid you would ruin me, make a fool of me, prove to me that I am no match indeed, that I am in fact weak.

I don’t know what you want, but I know you have something to say. I want to listen. I want to hear about it, all of it. I have cried many times, but only half tears. The depth of whatever you are, and from where you come, I never allowed myself that intimacy, and so as I turned away, you sat there patiently until my humbled return. Thank you.

So here I am.

Your persistence wins.

What do you want to say? What do you need me to hear? What can I learn from you? How can I be here for you?

I don’t understand you, but I want to.

I want to know what breaks your heart. What makes you cry. What makes you stumble.

I am afraid of you, but I want to know you. What startles you. What weakens you. What strengthens you.

I am busy, but I am willing to let it all go, to know you and be embraced by you.

Um, first, I do have a few questions.

How long do you plan to stay?

How long will I feel this way? Will I feel sad forever?

I don’t mean to be mean, but will you ever go away?

Does this mean we’re becoming friends? If so, what does it mean to be friends with you?

It might be a futile question, but do you ever wish you were something else?

As you can see, I want a little reassurance that we’re going to be okay. That I’m going to be okay. When you come knocking, I am not sure I will be okay with it, and if I let you in, is that like letting in a vampire? Will you take everything away from me. Again?

You are who you are for a reason. There are so many perfectly justifiable reasons for how you are, the depth of you, the untamed darkness that you have become. I know when I am loved, it melts away the darkness.

Is this what you’re asking me for? To love you, so that you will melt away and return us both to the light?

I am not one to foolishly pray for happiness, but I do long for peace.

That’s what I ask of you.

What do you ask of me?

Whatever it is, I am willing. Your demands have secured my attention. It has been more hurtful to ignore you than embrace you, but I’m not totally ready for a full on hug, so where do we go from here?

I am willing and I am afraid.

I have felt your sacredness - that is why I am writing you and why I want to let you in. I have felt your strength, honesty and vulnerability. But will you devour me?

Will I ever be the same?

Anyway, maybe it’s good if I’m not.

I am willing and curious, that’s all I can be in this moment.

Dearest Grief, I have cleared away the distractions, and it’s quite now. Show me what I have been unwilling to see, the part of me that is weak and foolish and powerless - and equally show the part of me that is strong, brave and loving, so that I might find my wholeness through this partnership.

I am willing to be honest, to not abandon myself ever again, to never depress my ownness. And I ask that you show me the way through. I am new here. Be as you will and I will pray that love returns us home in completeness.

Your humbled new friend,