Performative people can be dangerous. They’ll play the role of a good person until the act gets exhausting. And when the mask finally slips, you see the side of them they worked so hard to keep hidden.
Grief is the most exhausting feeling to ever exist. It exhaust your mind and your body. It’s exhausting because it’s constant. It doesn’t take breaks. The hardest part is that grief doesn’t end. It softens, maybe. It changes shape. But it never fully leaves. It becomes something you live with. Something that shows up in random moments, years later, when you least expect it.
The cruelest part? Life doesn’t pause for grief. It moves forward. And you’re expected to move with it, to show up, to keep functioning, all while carrying the heaviness of absence. Grief isn’t something you get over. It’s something you learn to live with and that’s what makes it so endlessly, achingly exhausting.