i'm left kind of shattered at how much this resonated with me. the colorlessness of south Ontario, anger and grief, and the mourning we are swept up in by the waves of love, wherever it finds us. Love is being seen, I feel, and I grieve knowing the world must close its eyes. thank you, your words have helped me feel seen again.
All-timer David Berman framing your piece that so precisely describes everything I've been moving through after a visit to my rust belt hometown, so beautifully singular yet somehow feels like reading out of my own diary-- thank you for the catharsis <3
So beautifully put. Your writing reminds me of John Darnielle’s, the way it veers between abstract and specific--zooming in on a detail, out to the universal, the emotional fluidity. (I adore his prose and mean this comparison very much as a complement, by the way!)
"I am a child again, and nobody who knows me would suggest that I’m fit to take care of a child." I resonated with this line a lot, and found it interesting how childhood was such a reoccurring point of reference for you. I think grief feels unfamiliar even when you've experienced it time and time again, just as emotions are a lot bigger due to their new-ness when we are children. That's not a very articulate thought, but this essay spoke a lot of things I've been unable to conjure up about my own grief. Thank you for allowing others to read this piece.
crying on the bathroom floor. I used to feel really angry when people compared their grief to mine but I don’t know how to tell you that your words have made me reflect and I have seen myself in them.
this made me cry and i have nothing clever to say. in december, i tweeted "there's an energy in my hometown that makes me feel small and weak and stupid and wrong about everything". i've never been to southern ontario, but it's oddly comforting knowing others are also swallowed by their grief while home for the holidays.
I hate logging into things and making accounts for anything but I did it this time just to be able to say how much I enjoyed this piece. Truly the best thing of yours I’ve read. Resilience to vulnerability in writing is fucking overrated. Loved it <3
I’m almost at a loss for words after reading. Being able to explain the human condition in such a raw and beautiful way is such a powerful gift. I recently lost my older brother, and your writing on (around) grief is the closest ive been to nailing the feeling “I’m still unsure if I can accept the idea of grief as a final form of love, but I understand intimately, now, its fundamental truth: horror and pain and loss do not exist in opposition to love, but as affirmation of it. All this terror because of all this beauty” Just wow. Excellent piece.
I used to drive from Cleveland to Montreal through upstate New York, with a three-hour stretch in Ontario following the St. Lawrence. I've seen that part of the province in all seasons and it always calls to mind the great expanses of nothingness that define the Midwest, in particular my native Ohio. Your comments about the desolation of a place making you lesser- framed between two David Berman passages no less- define an aspect of life in the rustbelt I've never been able to fully articulate until now.
Sitting here trying to piece together words that would feel fitting for the emotions I want to express. I recently went through a breakup and lost my mother in the last year. so many lines connected on a level that i thought impossible. Thank you for this
i want to cry and i feel so incredibly nauseous reading about all of these emotions that i could never put myself through because im someone that will block block block it all out until i cant remember a single bad thing that happened to me but also nothing good that happened to me either. i have nothing original to say - its just an incredible piece of writing thank you
Thank you. I feel saddled with grief, and I feel jaded and expert to it. I’ve lost a sibling and many friends. One of those friends was my best friends partner. He passed in October from overdose. She’s having an expectedly but still tragically difficult time with everything. I want to hold her in my hands every day, I want to quit my job and follow her around, I want to keep her safe. I didn’t ever want this for her, or myself. I can’t do any of those things so I’ve shared some excerpts of this with her. I feel hopeless sometimes, but this made me feel a little better.
i'm left kind of shattered at how much this resonated with me. the colorlessness of south Ontario, anger and grief, and the mourning we are swept up in by the waves of love, wherever it finds us. Love is being seen, I feel, and I grieve knowing the world must close its eyes. thank you, your words have helped me feel seen again.
All-timer David Berman framing your piece that so precisely describes everything I've been moving through after a visit to my rust belt hometown, so beautifully singular yet somehow feels like reading out of my own diary-- thank you for the catharsis <3
So beautifully put. Your writing reminds me of John Darnielle’s, the way it veers between abstract and specific--zooming in on a detail, out to the universal, the emotional fluidity. (I adore his prose and mean this comparison very much as a complement, by the way!)
“I am decimated by the loss of things that aren’t even gone yet” punched me in the face. I relate so much. I love this, thank you Rayne 🤍
wow. You ever read something and just need to put everything down and go vacuum
"I am a child again, and nobody who knows me would suggest that I’m fit to take care of a child." I resonated with this line a lot, and found it interesting how childhood was such a reoccurring point of reference for you. I think grief feels unfamiliar even when you've experienced it time and time again, just as emotions are a lot bigger due to their new-ness when we are children. That's not a very articulate thought, but this essay spoke a lot of things I've been unable to conjure up about my own grief. Thank you for allowing others to read this piece.
crying on the bathroom floor. I used to feel really angry when people compared their grief to mine but I don’t know how to tell you that your words have made me reflect and I have seen myself in them.
this made me cry and i have nothing clever to say. in december, i tweeted "there's an energy in my hometown that makes me feel small and weak and stupid and wrong about everything". i've never been to southern ontario, but it's oddly comforting knowing others are also swallowed by their grief while home for the holidays.
I hate logging into things and making accounts for anything but I did it this time just to be able to say how much I enjoyed this piece. Truly the best thing of yours I’ve read. Resilience to vulnerability in writing is fucking overrated. Loved it <3
I’m almost at a loss for words after reading. Being able to explain the human condition in such a raw and beautiful way is such a powerful gift. I recently lost my older brother, and your writing on (around) grief is the closest ive been to nailing the feeling “I’m still unsure if I can accept the idea of grief as a final form of love, but I understand intimately, now, its fundamental truth: horror and pain and loss do not exist in opposition to love, but as affirmation of it. All this terror because of all this beauty” Just wow. Excellent piece.
both stunningly beautiful and deeply painful to read. you create things that are so personal yet somehow i still selfishly find me within.
I used to drive from Cleveland to Montreal through upstate New York, with a three-hour stretch in Ontario following the St. Lawrence. I've seen that part of the province in all seasons and it always calls to mind the great expanses of nothingness that define the Midwest, in particular my native Ohio. Your comments about the desolation of a place making you lesser- framed between two David Berman passages no less- define an aspect of life in the rustbelt I've never been able to fully articulate until now.
this was the most devastating yet beautiful piece i have read in a long time
Sitting here trying to piece together words that would feel fitting for the emotions I want to express. I recently went through a breakup and lost my mother in the last year. so many lines connected on a level that i thought impossible. Thank you for this
i want to cry and i feel so incredibly nauseous reading about all of these emotions that i could never put myself through because im someone that will block block block it all out until i cant remember a single bad thing that happened to me but also nothing good that happened to me either. i have nothing original to say - its just an incredible piece of writing thank you
Thank you. I feel saddled with grief, and I feel jaded and expert to it. I’ve lost a sibling and many friends. One of those friends was my best friends partner. He passed in October from overdose. She’s having an expectedly but still tragically difficult time with everything. I want to hold her in my hands every day, I want to quit my job and follow her around, I want to keep her safe. I didn’t ever want this for her, or myself. I can’t do any of those things so I’ve shared some excerpts of this with her. I feel hopeless sometimes, but this made me feel a little better.