Some Days Aren’t Diamonds
It's 2 a.m. in San Diego, and I've been up for an hour. I can't sleep. I am bleary eyed, but wide awake.
I always miss my son, and I will until the day I die, which goes without saying, Lately, I don't know, the pain is deeper, the longing to see him, to hold him, to laugh with him is overwhelming. It's like a hunger that will never be satiated, and I'm starving for my son. Does that make sense?
I believe it's true, that we’re numb for the first year, and then the foggy, fuzzy brain begins to sh
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Apr 17th 2019