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The Weight of Grief at 4:45 AM

· The Weight of Grief

August 19, 2025 – 4:45 AM


Dear Diary,


Who decided there’s a timeline for grief? Who said that after a certain number of days, months, or years, I’m supposed to be healed? Who made it feel like a crime to wake up in the middle of the night sobbing? Who told us that therapy or counseling wasn’t a good idea—when sometimes it feels like the only thing that could possibly hold me together?


They say we’re not supposed to question God, but how can you not when the pain feels never-ending? When will this sadness go away? Will I ever feel normal again—or is this my new normal? Why do we have to lose the people we love the most? And if there’s some lesson in losing them, God, what is it?


The truth is, nobody chooses to be sad all the time. Nobody wants swollen eyes. Nobody wants to hear a certain song while driving and completely break down in tears. And yet it happens. Nobody asked for the nights when grief creeps in uninvited and settles on your chest like a weight too heavy to breathe under.


And who created the famous lie, “it’ll get better with time”? Because here I am—4:45 AM—blowing my nose and wiping my tears, and it doesn’t feel better. It feels heavier. Each day isn’t necessarily lighter; sometimes each day just reminds me how permanent loss really is.


Life is unfair. God didn’t give me a manual for how to cope with this kind of loss, and I’m just exhausted with sorrow—completely drained from carrying it day after day.


But maybe this is the quiet truth: grief exists because love existed first. It’s only here because I loved so deeply. And maybe, just maybe, that same love—the love that feels like it broke me—is the only thing strong enough to keep me going.


Because if grief is the shadow of love, then love is still here, even in the dark.


—Briellé





To Anyone Reading This



If you’ve found yourself awake at 4:45 AM, crying into the silence, please know you are not alone. Grief has no expiration date. It doesn’t follow rules, and it doesn’t make sense. It may never feel lighter but what it does reveal is the depth of your love.


Don’t be ashamed of your tears, your questions, or the way grief keeps showing up in your life. Seek the help you need, whether that’s prayer, therapy, community, or quiet reflection. And above all, give yourself permission to feel without a deadline.


Because grief isn’t a sign of weakness…. it’s a testament to love. And love, even when it hurts, is still the strongest thing we have.