thanks for the time i needed to think a spell

I think there’s something comforting in the phrase, ‘there’s nothing new under the sun’. At this moment in my life, I’m taking it as my hurt, my loss, my grief is nothing new. I’m taking comfort in that because I’m hoping this feeling subsides one day.

One of the cruelest things that I’ve had to contend with recently is knowing that at absolutely any point your life can change, and you will miss the life you had before that moment and the person you were.

As a naturally anxious person, I’ve always taken comfort in pre-worrying, pre-thinking, pre-planning for the worst case scenarios. If I think about it before it actually happens, I’ll be better prepared. But, that’s not how life works.

How was I supposed to worry about Cristina dying?

I’ve put off writing about this for months, delaying my grief and keeping it a bay. But grief is funny, it sneaks back in when you think it’s gone; it tricks you into thinking you’re feeling back to normal only to have a flashback bring reality back into focus.

Unlike other deaths in my life, this one is changing me. I don’t know if it’s because the state of the country and the world is terrifying, or if it’s because she was my favorite cousin; but I’m not the same person I was before April 23, 2025. I walk around with a lump in my throat and a lack of enjoyment of anything.

I’ve been stuck in the denial phase since I returned from her funeral. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I planned her visit to Vegas so many times as a kid. I’d make us itineraries, think of all the things I wanted to share with her and eventually convince her to move here. The last time I saw her, I told her about all the plans I had made for us when were kids and she said she was looking forward to doing all of them one day. Maybe I’ll be able to take her kids one day.

Llantos

This still feels like a dream, a nightmare. Even talking to people drains me. I feel like a shell of a person, just being; not living.

All the memories keep flooding my heart, the adventures we had, the music we shared, the secrets we kept.

I was supposed to move to Chapala, and we were supposed to have more time.

It was all a dream.

I dreamt of my cousin last night, sleeping in this house definitely encouraged it.

I locked the keys in the house and walked to the corner where I saw her. She looked like we did when we’re teenagers, that’s what I picture when I think of her. And she said, it’s ok, I’m okay. Everything is okay. And we went on with the day; running around Chapala like we always did.

I feel so lucky and honored that she came to visit me, I hope I continue to see her more often.

This place won’t ever be the same without her.