Hard is not the right word for this.
Fill in the blank:
______ to say goodbye to your best friend,
______ to reduce your life to seventeen brown boxes,
______ to throw wedding photos in a pile marked ‘trash’,
______ to split the pots and spoons and Tupperware lids,
______ to barter the bed for the new coffee maker,
______ to forgive yourself,
______ to order new curtains for the only window you now have,
______ to leave the bottle behind while you dissolve in the tub,
______ to see a smile, or accept any sort of kindness,
______ to hear, “I’m sorry” or “congratulations!”
______ to forget the names you picked out for kids you’ll never have,
______ to see them doing so well without you,
______ to wonder if you’ll ever be worthy of love again,
______ to open the curtain and let sunlight in once a day,
______ to justify the gym membership you don’t use anymore,
______ to stay off cigarettes,
______ to keep yourself together when you might fall apart at any moment,
______ to go on feeling nothing,
______ to imagine what comes next.
It isn’t hard to do any of this;
it’s impossibly, unimaginably painful.
Hard just doesn’t cover it.