Grief

Something my pastor said last Sunday has been sticking in my mind. He was giving a sermon on how to recognize a true friend, and friend that is a gift from God, closer than a brother. He said, "Blood may be thicker than water, but spirit is thicker than blood." What he meant was that although the world says that family is supposed to be your #1, there are some relationships that are greater still because of the presence of the Holy Spirit and the kinship that comes from being brothers and sisters in Christ. These are people you would lay your life down for, even if it meant choosing them over a family member that you may have less of a relationship with.
A few people came to mind during this sermon. One was my best friend Laura. Two were my aunts. The other was the man I asked to marry me 4 months ago.
I'll start with Laura. She is incredible. As far as friends go, she is the best I could ever ask for. She fits me perfectly. Which is why I was very sad when she moved to North Dakota. Grievance #1.
Back in August, my favorite aunt lost her battle with cancer and went home. Almost two months later, another aunt died unexpectedly of an overdose.
Grievances #2 and #3.
And the worst one of all. The man. Our spirits were knit together; at least, that's what it felt like. For 6 years we were friends closer than family. The only person I would choose over him is my daughter. Hands down. No one else would make the cut. Which is why this grief is the worst. I loved him for 6 years and never said anything; until 4 months ago. Unfortunately, he already had a fiance when I revealed my feelings; consequently, we can no longer have contact with each other. I understand her point of view, I really do, but I don't think she understands mine. Not that she needs to. I've accepted the fact that he chose her over me. What I haven't accepted is that I'll likely never see nor speak to him again. He knew my soul. I'm afraid I'll never find that again. And that is the worst grief of all. This soul-wrenching pain; I love him more fully and more deeply than I ever could explain or express. 
There is no healing for me in this. Not in this season. This season is for me to grieve, so please let me. Don't ask me if I'm ok, because I'm not. Don't tell me it's for the best, because I"ll punch you. And don't try to make me feel better, because I don't want to.