amelia-hurricane-shepherd:

“I don’t know.  Some days,  it’s easier,  and
others, it’s like you’re right back where you
started,  and you just take all this crap as it
comes,  and I wish that there was a statute
of limitations  or  some kind of time limit on
grief, but there’s not. You just– You always
miss him.    But you find a way to miss him
and continue living at the same time.”

              Amelia frowned,   all-too-aware  that the words
              probably meant nothing.  They rarely helped to
              hear, at least for her. But that didn’t make them
              any less true.  She was living proof of that – at
              least most days.  Other days, waking up was a
              challenge enough to almost kill her.  If only grief
              were a monster to be defeated,   instead of one
              who made its home in your bed – and once he
              arrived, he stayed forever.

Teddy was guilty of that, too  — setting a place at the table
for  g r i e f,  and tucking it into bed at night. It was strange,
though, just how lonely she felt in its company. Most days,
Teddy walked the line of wanting to be alone,  and wishing
more than anything that she didn’t have to be  lonely.  But
she’d long since learned that  wishes  on  eyelashes  and
shooting stars came to nothing.

           “Maybe we’re just not  m e a n t  to be happy,” she said, not
              a trace of bitterness in her voice. It was merely a statement
              of  fact;  something Teddy had resigned herself to believing
              the night she’d lost everything.