Normal?

Still, I sob when I write of her. Not a tear hear and there, but actual weeping. A release of the soul. It's uncontrollable. An evocation of emotion - indescribable. It's as though parts of me are letting go, piece by piece, shred by shred, one at a time. If I were to let her go all at once, I would implode, or worse, forget. Perhaps I'm not supposed to let go. Is this why I keep it all in? The anger is what helps sustain her memory (I think). Either way you cut it, the emptiness remains. Are these feelings normal?