I drove past our house today, little green trees sat
outside the garage and a giant decorated tree shone through the window. Two
black figures moved inside, ghosts.
I look back at the
last 5 months. 5 months’ worth of devastation, houses crumbling, lives
shattering, everything is different, and although it feels like I could look
behind me and literally see the storm head moving slowly away from me, I don’t
dare. I’m shaken and disoriented, to the world I look lost and broken, but
inside I am growing stronger than I’ve ever been. I miss him and our precious
life, my past, our dog, having a sense of belonging and home, love, and being
loved. I have to begin to trust that there is something or someone out there
for me, something that makes this worthwhile. But with this attitude nothing ever
will be.
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