More C.S. Lewis

Ahhhh....C.S. Lewis never lets me down.  Here he articulates his emotions during the grief that followed the death of his wife:

"No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear.  I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.  The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning....At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed.  There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me.  I find it hard to take in what anyone ways.  Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting.

I prefer the moments of agony.  These are at least clean an honest.  But the bath of self-pity, the wallow, the loathsome sticky-sweet pleasure of indulging it-that disgusts me.

An odd byproduct of my loss is that I'm aware of being an embarrassment to everyone I meet. At work, at the club, in the street, I see people, as they approach me, trying to make up their minds whether they'll 'say something about it' or not....Perhaps the bereaved ought to be isolated in special settlements like lepers.