I remember him. His loss colors so much of my world. I'm so happy where I'm at now, but I often wonder - would I be even happier? Is it possible to miss him more than anything and wish it hadn't happened, since if it hadn't, chance are I wouldn't have my two rainbow girls? I wouldn't take them back for the world, but I would also give the world to have him back. I just want all three of my babies together. I want the girls to have their big brother. I want to have my little boy.
It's not a fresh pain. It's not an open wound. It's a rarely seen scar. It's a lingering thought, a shadow out of the corner of my eye, an unexpected reminder when I least expect it.
Sometimes I find it so hard to believe that this happened to me and that it's my life that played out in the pages of this blog; that it's me who has a little wooden box in the closet that contains all of a life not lived.
That's all.
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