I'm a writer. I fill the Internet with words on grief and love. I do this even as I know that words can never express the true reality of grief. No matter how beautifully or eloquently I may write, those words only gesture towards what is deeper than words.
I write, knowing that before and inside and beneath all those words, there is only howling. The howling is what's true. Everything else is at least one step removed. Everything else is intellect. It's not what's real.