It's all the same patterns: Newspaper front pages. Social media posts. Political interference and commentary on one of the worst fucking days of your life.
The impossibly hard piece about knowing and loving someone who died in a plane crash, is that every subsequent plane crash is as raw and painful as the first day. They're rare enough that you don't have a chance to desensitise yourself from it.
We knew going into wedding planning that a decent portion of our friends & family wouldn't attend due to "religious reasons". What we didn't anticipate was the sheer scope of it- and how each of them felt the need to tell us the details of their declined invite.
It's really hard to continue with 100% joy and excitement for my literal wedding, knowing some of the people closest to me won't be there. It's disheartening. I picture walking into my wedding and crying.