One Year Later
This time last year ... exactly this time last year, I didn't see the sun. I can't remember it shining, even now, unless I force my mind to realize, that logically, it must have. The sun must have been shining almost every day as my heart hemorrhaged. The days bled into one another like the soggy mascara I eventually gave up on. I bit at my lip and pulled at my hair as I tried desperately to fix my eyes on truth; tried desperately not to let everything be pulled into and tainted by my sorrow. The sun is shining now and I wrestle with it. This shining has significant implications. I have to admit, the sun must have been shining then, too. If it sounds like my mind is spinning in circles, I apologize. It is. My heart aches as I let my memories of a year ago resurface. The series of events that felt like a thousand good things withering away in my hands. I let go of dreams, let go of plans, let go of hands I thought were mine to hold forever. My pastor said so