It’s September

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.

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