“No matter what you feel right now, remember that tomorrow the sun will still rise. The birds will still sing. And life will continue on.  It may feel like the end of the world, but it is not.”

My dad used to say this whenever something would happen where it hurt – and felt like the world was going to end.  I heard this half a dozen times throughout my life.  When my grandma – a person I was closest – died, he said it for both of us.  When my great aunt who was another influential person in my life, he said the same thing.  When I broke up with a boy who meant a lot to me, he would utter those words.  If something I had my heart set on did not happen, he would remind me of this.

I wasn’t the only one.  He would say this to everyone who was hurting, who was disappointed, who was feeling the world is ending.

I keep trying to remind myself of this.

It’s been one hell of a fucking week.

I am hurting.  My heart aches.

I am sad.

I ache.

I am a little black cloud raining unexpectedly on poor unsuspecting souls.

Too much of my week has been sadness.  And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, I learned to never wonder that because it could get worse.

A friend asked me if I wanted some rough play to see if it would help.

I declined realizing I would likely let things go too far so that I could feel more pain than I was feeling. And while the idea of having that happen is a sounds good, I realized it is not a good idea.  I am not in the right frame of mind to play, so I shouldn’t do that to the person dishing it out.

All I can do is give myself time, I guess.  Hope things change. Hope things get better. Hope that those moments of aching go away – or at least diminish.

I hate this hurt.