Remembering those happy memories with her daughter and her husband made her feel lost and empty, looking outside the window and grieving.
Then a sudden teardrop rolled by her cheek, once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Trying to hold back the seething avalanche of tears for she to wash away her anger. Her grief is same with the weather, some days, it's calm, quiet, maybe even a little sunny. And on the other days it's like a devastating storm that makes her feel upset, exhausted, tired, weary. weak, raw, and empty. Sometimes, she woke up in the morning and thinking,
-- "Am I even alive at all? And if so, how am I supposed to make it through this day?"
Her throat hurt as she swallowed, she tried to breathe through the raw crush in her chest. If she let it out now, she wouldn't be able to stop. But she started to cry with the power to vomit on her limbs.
It is her tears that keep her soul alive in the furnace of this pain. They can't extinguish what has been, yet only carry her forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget more than remember, and maybe one day erase itself from her brain. So perhaps it may be an oddity to thank her tears and be proud to cry, yet if that's what saves her from becoming a monster, a person indifferent to suffering and sorrow, then crying is the smartest thing she can do.
"I'm Sorry, my Little angel. I'm Sorry! I wish I can bring back everything and change what happen, I'm sorry", she says while sobbing.
YOU ARE READING
Until When are We Going to Keep This
Teen FictionTo my readers, I'm sending you the world's biggest and warmest hug for all you mean to me. I Love Y'all! I hope you'll give me an endlessly love and support, and I hope you'll do the same with Lacey and Kyle and Until When Are We...
