Day five of year two. Why has nothing changed? Did I expect it to? I think that buried deep somewhere was an expectation that somehow Michael might return once we made it through all the "firsts". Sometimes the logical part of me takes a vacation and the desperate illogical part takes over.
Friday was a quiet day. We cried a lot and listened to Michael's favourite music. I tried to imagine where he might be now? Is the soul further away after a year than it was after a month? I wish there were answers to my questions.
I am missing my son so much. Why can't I wake up from this nightmare?
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