sorrow

It is like a stone - I think I am thinking about Ari's death and I can't for too long, my brain just shears off into other topics and other things to think about that are peripherally related, but not THE THING. That is two deaths so far, that have nothing to do with the virus, and I am more wrecked over them. Yarn Harlot's grand daughter died at two days old, and I was wrecked for three weeks. I don't know the woman except through her writing, which I love but still, and I don't know her daughter, again except through her writing, and still these people are dear to me, even while thy are faintly fictional, and like all good books when somehting emotional happens, I have emotions about it. Ari though - Ari's death is someone I knew and worked with, someone whose parents I knew because of her and her efforts in the theater. Someone I watched grow up, and blossom. And to have her misery overcome her, that is so hard. Hard that she is not still here, hard for her parents and friends to lose her, like dropping something overboard in the deep ocean, barely visible and unretievable.

Her work in the theater was a perfect metaphor for her own self as well. She was happiest in the dark, in the middle of the night, at odd hours, but she brought light - she caused it to be shone on things that mattered, she brought friendship and company to the lonely, and knowledge to those who asked. Even after she left the high school she was mentoring the kids she had graduated away from. Even at home during the pandemic she was in touch with friends from college and beyond.

I have not cried so hard for a long time. I hate crying. I hate when things move me enough to cry, I hate when things get bad enough that the only response is to cry, I hate hate hate the physical act of crying -  water leaking from my eyes and my nose running and my head hurting and utter misery flooding through me. I don't like feeling loose and stupid afterward, and the feeling that one false move or one stray thought will bring it all back again. I have avoided crying a lot lately. Some part of me thinks that is avoiding something that is fundamentally human. Another part thinks I should not have to do something so deeply unpleasant for no actual reason. What do I know actually? Today, I know very little.