King of the Lost Boys

Dear Loco,

Give me a kiss goodbye
And go explore the night
You know the way, you can come back anytime
And if the fear comes, heavy on you
Make some noise, you’re king of the lost boys

Come, now
Honey, don’t you cry, no
Honey, don’t you cry
In time you will be stronger
Don’t you worry ’bout the why
Those answers come in time
So leave your heart to wander

I know the purpose of this “Blog” was to share joys, gratitude, play and curiosity and not for me to wax eloquent about grief but the words are suffocating inside me.

Brief summary: We got to the place, I worked and slept, and a new day came. For this one, it was just the most awful day. SO AWFUL. With the exception of these floofs:

Back to the elephant in the room (great reference because I did in fact see elephants on this trip):
I had hoped I would be baptized in grief , and come out absolved of all. Instead it’s just settled into the pit of my stomach as a dull ache. You know I’ve always gravitated to extremes. The dull ache just feels like a perfectionist’s job left undone. It demands to be left alone. Like a benign tumour. I want to go back to the big grief that had a call to action. This in place of you, my bestest friend, feels like a sorry replacement.

To someday together again, Fattumesh.

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