What would Rachel do?
She would feel all the feelings
Then write honestly
Fuck death. Fuck simple illnesses that randomly kill one person while barely making a dent in another. Fuck this constant confusion. Fuck suffocating grief that robs you of even small daily joys. Fuck division. Fuck loneliness. Fuck loss. Fuck not getting to see your babies grow up. Fuck having to grow up without your mom. Fuck opening yourself up towards building a family with someone only to have your co-pilot taken away without warning. Fuck these needy, complex, tempermental, fragile bodies that house our souls. Fuck me for not possessing enough gratefulness to override how angry I am that the universe doesn’t operate exactly as I feel it should. Fuck not being able to speed up the grief process. Fuck being old enough to realize that once you get through the stages of grief for one person, it will likely be time to start the whole process over with someone else. Fuck how exhausted this all makes me feel right now.
Oh... and fuck unnecessarily big words used to describe oats.