It's the monthversary of that day again. There still hasn't been a chance, except that I continue to cry and usually don't let S know about my sadness regarding this event. We've talked about it a thousand times, we've cried over it and have quietly sat there, looking at each other, trying to find comfort in each others' souls, nestled up to one another.
It's dreary and painful. I drag myself throughout the day and at night, as I am sitting down for the day, having finished nannying, my long list of things to do, finished cooking, cleaning, and made through a batch of dessert to finally unwind, and it hits harder than usual. It's painful enough to disable any kind of thought, emotion and the shame burns deep, red and redder than before, with rage surmounting and sorrow reaching its pinnacle.
I no longer know how to quell anything within me.
It's dreary and painful. I drag myself throughout the day and at night, as I am sitting down for the day, having finished nannying, my long list of things to do, finished cooking, cleaning, and made through a batch of dessert to finally unwind, and it hits harder than usual. It's painful enough to disable any kind of thought, emotion and the shame burns deep, red and redder than before, with rage surmounting and sorrow reaching its pinnacle.
I no longer know how to quell anything within me.
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