The hardest thing about losing what you had is that you want it back. It's unacceptable, like waiting. You push for return, and work to right the wrong. But healing doesn't happen staring at the hurt, or pressing on the pain. Healing comes in the wet wracks and full-on sobs. Healing comes on padded paws when you sleep, or daydream, relaxed and distracted. It's somewhere soft and easy, on that magic path of enlightened work. It isn't where you were. It isn't where you were. But it's feathered with downy soft friends and soulmates.
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Den of Positivity 