I am carrying a love that has nowhere to land.
It used to move freely...into conversations, plans, laughter, worry, purpose. Now it has no place to go, so it circles inside me, heavy and restless, colliding with everything else. my emotions feel backwards. Anger shows up where joy used to live. Panic shows up in places that never effected me before. Sadness slips into ordinary moments without warning.
I have panic attacks over things that used to be nothing.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up.
Anxiety lives in spaces that used to feel safe.
Normal conversations feel like pretending—like I’m playing a role in a life that no longer fits. I smile, I answer, I nod along, but it feels hollow, like speaking a language I once knew but don’t believe in anymore.
Anything that reminds me of who I was when he was alive hurts. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. Because that version of me existed in a world where my love had a home—and this world does not look like that one.
I didn’t ask to become this person.
I didn’t choose this emptiness or this black hole that pulls everything inward.
I didn’t want a life split into before and after.
But this is who I am now.
Not broken—changed in ways I’m still trying to understand. I am learning how to exist with a heart full of love that has no place to land, and emotions that don’t always show up where they belong. I’m not pretending to be okay. I’m learning how to live in the aftermath.