Pieces broken down until there was just pretty much nothing left to give, nothing more to feel. My heart is ripped open, torn open into millions of pieces, pieces that can never be picked up again, that can never be pasted back together no matter how strong the glue. My child was torn away from me. Ripped out of my life. How am I ever going to be able to live? How can I ever believe again? How do you get on with your life? I don't know, I cant, I don't want to. I sometimes lose it for five minutes and remember there are others who share the hurt with me, others for whom I need to be strong for, but my mind drives me crazy. I see my child everywhere. I wait for him to come around the corner or come over for some coffee. I see him where he talked to us this evenings. Happy. But then he took his own life. Now I face a life without him, something I know will be impossible.
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The Day I lost you
Non-FictionFacing death is a reality so many of us face and one that I'm still struggling with after I lost my Son in November 2019 to suicide. From day one I started writing letters to him, telling him about the life he left behind and asking all the questio...
