Grief is a fickle thing. It can be as small as a teardrop racing down your cheek, or as vast as the ocean swallowing you in its depths.
Grief is constant. It ebbs and flows with the tide, but you never truly find your way to calm waters. You either choose to fight the current and swim to the top, or let the waves take you under and drown you in your sorrow.
Some say grief is a price we pay. That it’s the cost of loving someone with all of your heart. And once they’re gone, it’s time to settle the bill.
But what happens when you can no longer afford the toll?
What happens when your grief becomes mixed with anger that is so consuming, you begin to resent the ones who left you behind?
What do you do when your tears run out and you no longer want to swim? When you find yourself traveling down the same road as the ones who raised you?
I didn’t ask to be weaved into their web of lies. I didn’t want to raise a child who is the living embodiment of their betrayal. And I certainly didn’t want to fall in love with my dead fiancé’s brother.
But what do you do when he becomes your reason to swim again?