The Second Person Sin
There are days where the world stops.
And it stops hard.
At least it does for you. Everyone and everything else, generally, marches on. You can almost feel them marching on. And you may keep in step, or look in step. But you’re much, much further away. At a distance that you just can’t recover.
It’s an affront. A powerful aftershock. Don’t they know? Isn’t it written on your face that you will never forget this date? That it is etched into you as few things can be?
(But it’s just another day. There’s humility in that, when it hits.)
On those days, relatively rare, there’s a drop of happiness in the sad. A sense of taking stock. A feeling of truly living. Without the distraction of gossip, advertisements, or fried chicken. Just you, your thoughts, and those you are most inextricably linked to. If you’re lucky. But even then, lost in yourself, there is great solitude.
That drop of happiness makes it bearable. That tiny hope of better days that can well up from almost nowhere. Somehow, it may just be okay that you will re-enter the world behind. Changed.
They are big, heady days.
Waste not, want more 
I think you captured the relationship between grief and time very, very well. Also, your tags. Thank you for your tags.
Thanks! I was originally trying to convey the good time stopper days as well as the moments of grief, but I just couldn’t jam it in.
What a lovely and reflective post, my friend. I have walked this same terrain–fried-chicken-less and all. Hugs to you, my dear–whatever is going on.
Hugs,
Kathy
Thankfully, nothing’s going on. This is just a new articulation – something I’ve rolled around in my mind quite often. There is comfort in knowing we all have these days. Thanks for your comment, Kathy!
Hey Rose– what a beautiful post! I like thinking about a drop of happiness amidst the sad. What a poignant way of capturing the complexity of human emotions and experiences.
Thanks so much, Dana. Sorry for the belated comment response. That drop of happiness also comes with a touch of fear that I’m getting perverse enjoyment from misery. I guess it is complicated!