There’s a special kind of grief that comes with the holidays when you don’t know if you’ll live to see the next ones.
It isn’t soft. It isn’t peaceful.
It’s brutal. It’s loud.
And it burns.
Because while I’m here trying to memorize the feeling of simply being alive during another December, other people are wasting time like it’s nothing.
Holding grudges like they’re trophies.
Walking around with their noses in the air.
Acting like people are disposable and relationships can be paused until they feel like getting over themselves.
I don’t have the luxury of “later.”
I don’t have time to wait for someone to come around, apologize, mature, or grow up.
I don’t have the privilege of silent treatments or cold shoulders.
And the anger sits in my chest like fire.
How do you beg for more time while watching people throw theirs away?
How do you face your own mortality while listening to someone rage about something they should’ve let go YEARS ago?
How do you stay gentle when humanity feels so careless?
I’m grieving a life I’m not done living.
But I’m also grieving the world around me — a world where people waste entire days being bitter or small.
A world where someone can choose anger over connection.
Where someone can choose ego over compassion.
Where people forget that nothing is promised — not one holiday, not one sunrise, not one heartbeat.
And it breaks something inside me to watch people waste what I’m dying to keep.
I feel it everywhere lately.
In the way someone rushes past without noticing the moment.
In the way arguments last longer than apologies.
In the way families fall apart over nonsense while I’m praying mine holds together long enough for me to breathe through another year.
In the way some people take their health, their time, their future for granted — while mine is slipping through my fingers faster than I can catch it.
I’m hurting.
I’m scared.
And I’m furious at how casually people treat something as sacred as time.
Do you know what it’s like to sit in the holidays and feel the weight of maybe-this-is-it pressing into your bones?
Do you know what it’s like to hear music and feel your chest ache because you can’t stop wondering if you’ll be here next year?
Do you know what it’s like to want more time so badly it makes you sick — while people around you waste days being cruel, careless, or disconnected?
I do.
And it’s heartbreaking in a way I can’t describe without tears.
But here’s the truth I’ve clung to, even in the anger:
I will not spend whatever time I have left being a person who wastes it.
I won’t waste it fighting.
I won’t waste it holding grudges.
I won’t waste it pretending I don’t care.
I won’t waste it on people who treat love like it’s optional.
I will spend it loving the people who love me back — loudly, fiercely, unapologetically.
Because I know what it costs to lose time.
And I know what it’s worth.
Mojo’s POV
Mom’s been angry-sad lately — the kind of sad that makes her chest tight and her eyes heavy. I crawl into her lap even when she tells me not to. I don’t care. Humans waste moments, but I don’t. I stay. I hold her with my whole little body, because if I could give her even one extra minute, one extra holiday, one extra breath… I would. 🐾
Subscribers Note
Thank you for letting me share the parts of this journey that people don’t talk about — the anger, the grief, the heartbreak. Your support keeps Mojo and the Mess alive, especially when my heart feels heavy.
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