And now…. it has been a year.
I wake up and my neck is sweaty and my mouth is dry and it isn’t yet 5 AM… And these aren’t quite anxiety attacks. Just the same abrupt shift in state… It isn’t a sense of panic… to wake up knowing that somehow I’ve been crying in my sleep. I wake up and catch my breath and get my bearings. Cool down. Breathe. And I know that I am okay.
Five months ago, Ethan- you died. I realized when it has been two months, or three… or today 5. And there isn’t any real meaning in that passage of time. Just that realization that it has been that long… and it hasn’t been long at all. And are the emotions blunted? Have the wounds faded to scars?
It is dark enough and early enough to go downstairs for a glass of water and try to sleep a little more…
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