I look at the envelope every day. I have almost ripped the seal a few times. I have even almost ripped it in half. I threw it in the trash once, but I took it back out again. I placed it on my bedside table. Some days I forget about it. Some days it’s the only thing I think about. The words on this letter are just too painful for me to read.
One day I’ll get another letter just like this one. The words and the dates will be different on my new letter. I’ll open it right away, and I will smile. I know that I will I smile.
I feel like every time I get excited that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Every time I get little butterflies in my stomach thinking about being at the end, its taken away from me.
I’m not one to be all ‘boohoo…feel sorry for me…’ even if I feel like the last 6 weeks I have been a big pile of … “Poor me…”
I do know that I can say this with full honesty. The next letter that I get in the mail, I will not be as excited as I should be. That part of me broke on Jan 30, 2016. I don’t know how to get it back.
Today marks a big day in my journey. Just 6 weeks ago I was in the trauma center at PG hospital. I was alone; black and blue, broken, bleeding and crying. I had so many unanswered questions, and uncertainties. Fast forward to today… the bruises have healed; the cuts have scared over…yet the tears have not stopped.
I know the tears will stop, I know that in a few years I will put all of this behind me and I will feel true joy again. I know that I will have my day, but I just don’t think I’ll be as excited as I should be. Only time will tell.
