The Unseen Cost Of Love
Lost In The Algorithms — Odyssey # 38
Grief ambushes you like a mid-life cliché you vowed never to entertain. It’s that reflective fork in the road, veiled in a flurry of “what ifs” and “what nows,” indifferent to whether you’re mid-sentence, caught in a burst of laughter, or savoring a fleeting moment of tranquility. It blindsides you with the echo of a forgotten laugh, a whiff of a familiar scent, or a melody from the radio reminiscent of the past. Suddenly, you’re not just a man on the brink of 40; you’re a boy yearning for love and connection, grappling with fears of abandonment.
“Life,” as Hunter S. Thompson eloquently stated, “is not about arriving at the grave in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, completely worn out, shouting ‘Wow! What a Ride!’” And indeed, what a tumultuous journey it’s been.
Grief is the toll we pay for love. And no one warns you about the fine print or the hidden charges accompanying it.
Grief is a shape-shifter, catching you off guard one moment with a gut-wrenching jolt, then settling into your bones as a relentless, aching presence the next. But I am learning, buried within this agony, is a profound revelation — grief is a testament to our capacity for deep, boundless love. It’s a shadow that only appears because of the light.
