Usually I’m bouncing off the walls the first day of September.
I love this time of year.
But this year, things are a little different.
I’ve been dreading the arrival of September.
I’m inching closer to a day I wish had never happened.
Soon it will have been one year.
And then what? Suddenly I have permission to move on? To not feel? To not ache deep inside my soul?
I can only hope the pain will lessen. But then I feel guilty for feeling that way.
I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to pretend you weren’t there – not for even the teeny portion of time I was allowed to carried you. You were here. You were loved. You will never be forgotten.