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The five stages of grief are by far the hardest thing to go through especially when one travels the uneasy roller coaster alone. It is the suffocating damning notion that what you once had is lost and gone forever.
That everything you knew, the familiar pattern of living, is shattered so that even when the sun is still shining it is your own apocalypse. The world could be at a perfect standstill, and yet you would still be moving, like an earthquake all your own, your life frayed and torn like tapestry torn at the seams.
Then as time goes by, you start to move on, little by little, never understanding fully that Death is inevitable. It must happen like the coming of dawn and the dying of days, of the passing of spring to fall.
Death in itself is a cruel Spector, watching and waiting to snatch another person, while he himself is immortal.
Yet you have to understand that he does not feel, cannot care about the ones he takes and the ones he leaves behind. He does not listen to pleas or bargains, doesn’t grasp the concept of anger, or grief nor does he process denial. You learn that over time believing it does not pass, and you learn that the roads you once traveled, the memories you have are the only ones you will ever have. Death is a Tornado that rips your life apart, destroys everything you love after you find that you survived the storm that moment where you realize that everything is not lost, is where you start to rebuild again.

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