Every painful loss I have ever endured has only been the loss of an illusion.

And it fucking hurts in every cell of my body as I grieve and resist. I get angry at God, like my wants were a perfect plan ripped away, like I’m being punished for something, like a spoiled child screaming, “You never let me have ANYTHING!!!!”

And then, somehow, I surrender. I pick up the pieces and move on. Life goes on without my illusion.

Today, I’m not there yet. I was really attached to this illusion.