Dear AroAce friends, in this day, February 14 not all of us will be happy, not all of us will have something to celebrate…
I am here today to give you something!
As a fellow AroAce, Today it’s my birthday ! I am now 26!
How ironic! 😂😂😂
So much friendly love to all of you!♥️
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26 January 1969
John Lennon threatens to eat his ex’s girlfriend’s daughter’s kittens, while his current partner looks on fondly.
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lots and lots of teddy bears 🧸💙
I still have my childhood teddy bear that I adore...
I inherited him from my older brother, who decided a few days in he didn't want him, and he had already named him "Master Teddy" - so I was to be this teddy bears butler. A prestigious role for a little kid ... anyways I call him Ted for short
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You know what's weird?
Grief.
It's so personal to each and every one of us. The way we handle it, the way we wear it. Yet people and media only ever want to portray it as some sudden dramatic outburst of tears and agony. And there's nothing wrong with that, I've written grief in these ways too.
But not all grief is like that. Sometimes, the grief is loud. This is the grief people come to expect. The screams and the tears. To the outside world, this is the grief that they understand. It's the easiest to handle because they can see it, they can hear it, and they expect it.
But sometimes grief is silent. This grief is hard for people to understand. This grief is hidden. It can hit you square in the chest at 2pm on a Saturday. It can sink into your gut at the most ridiculous times and ruin what's left of your day. This grief, I believe, is actually the most common yet it is not the most well received.
The issue with this type is that although there is never a timeline for grief, people still expect one. They expect the first days to be awful. They give you a handful of months to accept the reality of your loss, and sometimes, they agree that a year is acceptable.
But that's not the reality of grief, and that's unfair.
Imagine you woke up one morning and your arm is gone. Just disappeared without a trace. Some would panic immediately. They'd cry and mourn their arm in the coming days, and people would understand that.
But wouldn't there be some that were just completely dumbfounded? Like, where the fuck is my arm? Why wasn't there a sign that when I woke up, I would be forced to live in a world with only one arm. You'd be so busy trying to understand why your arm is gone that mourning the loss doesn't cross your mind. Because your arm worked perfectly yesterday. Is this actually a nightmare? And if so, when the hell will you wake up?
Everyone apologizes for the loss of your arm. They send you flowers and share fond memories of what you once could do with your arm. But you're still dealing with the fact that YOUR FUCKING ARM IS GONE, although yesterday, it was right where it should have been.
They tell you that it's okay to cry. Yes. You know that.
They say that you'll get through it. Okay. But when?
They tell you to take all the time you need. But soon that time has a limit, and you're expected to go on living like you did before you lost your arm.
Truthfully, I don't think grief ever gets "easier." I think that we as people just get stronger. We learn to live with the loss, and it changes us in ways we never see coming.
And please remember that your grief, however you're dealing with it, is valid.
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