The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Throughout the pandemic I've tried to ignore, deny, and minimize the impact that it has had on me. I've been relatively lucky, but it doesn't come without losing everything that defined my life, my self. We tell ourselves over and over that this will be fine, this will get better, this IS fine, dammit, all evidence to the contrary.
We deny the disaster that is occurring because it hurts too much to confront all of the difficulties that this brought into our lives, compounding the pre-existing pains we had been fighting through before. The "things" being lost are myriad yet individually tailored, and the majority of the world is dealing with this. Losing is the new black. But sometimes it's okay, and necessary, to face this in all it's ugliness. At least we're not alone.
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