A sudden, enormous loss can dig a black hole deep in your heart.
Life feels over.
But, then, days later, there seems to be a shift.
The world takes on a surreal, hyperreal quality.
I noticed startling colors I had not seen before, and the music in everyday sounds.
Even rewatching the familiar movies reveals something astonishing.
Were the costumes always so exquisitely coordinated?
Was the lighting always so masterfully sculpted?
Did the dialogue always have such layered meaning?
Have these things always been there?
Suddenly, I noticed: the intricate patterns in the wood grain of my table, the sound of rain against the windowpane, the warmth of sunlight on my skin.
It is as if the world has taken on a Wes Anderson-esque quality
— a heightened, almost whimsical awareness laid over the profound sadness.
I have lost what I thought was everything.
But now what remains is amplified with a breathtaking vibrancy.
Each breath feels new.
I knew life wasn’t over, but it now reveals a newfound wonder to me.
The black hole remains. But there’s light, too.
I live in both.
I hope you can, too.
🧚
