it’s too late to talk. To write. To think. I have a headache. It’s 3:49 am. December 6th came and went. Like it always does. But my son’s memory is forever. Two years now since he moved on to the next world. And here I am stuck.
i am trying to get unstuck though. I am seeing a counselor. She is really nice. So, that’s good. I finally moved from the house my son’s memory was in. But, I feel like I am still there. This new place is ok, but decorating is slow going. I have a lot of wishes, ideas. But it’s all undone like my wall that’s not finished painting.
my piano sits in the middle of my room. But I still play it. Half in the way, half out.
just like my life.
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