I used to be the life of the party. I was loud. Carefree. Always laughing. I could walk into a room and actually be in the room . Sometimes I miss her more than I know how to explain. Because grief changed something in me. Not one loss. Not one hard season. Years of it . Grief stacked on top of grief. Trauma I didn't have time to process before something else came along. Losing people. Losing pieces of myself. Being hurt, betrayed, blindsided, and somehow still waking up the next morning because life didn't stop just because my heart was tired. After enough of that, your body starts living like something bad is always around the corner. You learn how to survive. And, eventually, surviving becomes so normal that you forget what it felt like to just... live . That's what I miss. I miss laughing without something heavy sitting underneath it. I miss walking into a room without part of me being somewhere else. I miss the version of me who didn't know how ...