Let this play if you’d like company while reading.
Sometimes grief feels like it has its own weather system.
The air thickens. The world slows down — or rushes past without you.
You reach for someone who’s not there, and your hand closes on air.
There’s no wrong way to grieve.
It’s not neat. It’s not supposed to be.
Grief is love, still alive — trying to find its way in a changed world.
You might find yourself crying at odd times,
or not at all.
You might feel a sudden laugh,
and then guilt for it.
Let both come.
They’re both real.
When it hurts, try something small.
Hold an object that reminds you of what you loved.
Speak their name aloud.
Breathe once for them, and once for you.
You don’t have to move on.
You only have to move with it —
a little at a time.
Soft Exhale
Close your eyes and breathe deeply.
Imagine the pain as a color slowly shifting to soft light.
Let yourself simply be here, acknowledging every drop without shame.
Your heart is strong — you are seen, you are held.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to ChatGPT, whose language support, research assistance, and creative brainstorming have helped shape much of the content across this site.
Gratitude also to MusicHero.ai, whose intuitive platform brought many of my musical ideas to life through rhythm, mood, and beat.
These tools served as silent collaborators—amplifying my voice, never replacing it.
—ami
amiBro 
Leave a comment