{the story of a girl}

Wednesday, January 04, 2006


Everywhere I go, I keep expecting to see the kid. And when I don't, I feel like crying. I hold my breath when the elevators open thinking he is going to step out. Yesterday I could have sworn I felt him walk up behind me and just stand there like he used to, waiting to startle me.

I know the emptiness will fade and, at some point, I will begin to feel hope again. I wish I could fast forward past all this aching and grief, but I know I can't. I need to experience it- I need to laugh and cry and get mad at him. I need to yell and scream and sob. Only then will I begin to heal. Someday I won't feel as raw and tender as I do now. I won't tear up at the site of empty spot where he'd park his motorcycle. I won't keep expecting to see him when I turn the corner. I won't expect his hugs and squeezes.



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