Usually Fridays are bad for me. Apparently any day is bad when it comes to the boys being another month old. 121 days, 2904 hours, 4181760 minutes since I’ve seen your beautiful faces. It seems like so much longer since I lost you boys.
I’ve never felt pain like this in my life. The pain that is having a piece of me ripped out. I don’t know how people move on from this. I mean I know they don’t technically move on, but they smile for real and have other kids and stuff. When did it stop hurting for you? When did the pain not feel as sharp?
People have been talking to me about them and it makes me smile. But, when showing me baby clothes or new born babies or pregnant women it makes my heart ache. I don’t know how to tell them to please stop…. I can’t see babies without tearing up or wanting to curl in a ball.
I leave Friday to travel and help out and what not and I’m hoping it makes me so distracted that I won’t be able to feel. I know it sounds bad but I can’t help it. I’m so tired. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of faking shit. I’m just … tired.
All I want to do is sleep and act like my life isn’t a fucking mess. Why is it exhausting to pretend to be happy? Why is it exhausting to be so heart broken?
I don’t understand …..I don’t understand why you where taken from me. Why I was given only 30 minutes with you. Why my life was turned upside when I thought I was doing good. Why does the universe punish me?