{one month}

I have a model of a Yamaha RI on my nightstand. The same one I gave L shortly before his death. Yesterday morning, I held in my hands and cried, thinking of him. Don't tell me to get over it. I will in my own time. For now, I'm doing pretty damn good.

Good days outweigh bad ones. I smile more at his memory than cry. Being everywhere he used to be doesn't crush me.

I am constantly in awe of the resiliancy of the human soul. It bends, it even breaks, but it heals as well. An amazing gift to know we will all be healed.