I have this idea that it’s harder for me to connect to people sometimes because the sense of connection recalls the grief of losing those connections and the grief is too unbearable.

This evening, I’m remembering that. I’m remembering the informal dance parties in a place that was something like a lounge. I’m remembering girls kissing each other because they wanted to and not because they wanted to. I’m remembering arguing and shouting and cutlery rattling in the kitchen.

I’m remembering feeling all was well because there was a lot of noise and shouting and everyone was home and safe and everyone had made it through the night somehow and we were together. No one was missing.

I’m remembering too that some of the people I loved were missing. I just had to keep to keep shifting that line of who “everyone” was.

I’m remembering the feeling of well-being, of being cuddled up and safe in a group where I felt safe and loved. I am remembering what normal used to feel like.

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