It's been two months and four days and there still are no words.
There are no words to describe the emptiness inside.
No words to tell of the sinking feeling when a Jeep goes past me on the highway and I know that will never be him. It's hard to focus on learning when you read the definition of Infarction and wonder and realize that's what happened. Nothing does justice in explaining the ache of seeing a Snap-on truck or the quick flick back to reality upon reaching for the phone to text.
Nothing.
We can fill our lives with busyness and everyone will think it's all good and okay. We go on and continue in the normal because we don't have a choice. But just know, it's not all good. It's not all okay. And that, I guess, is the one thing that is okay.
Because we are putting one foot in front of the other. Doing a little more this day, this week, and maybe a little less the next. But slowly, we are picking ourselves up. Slowly, we are moving. We're still here and we should make it count. We need to make it count.
-Cynic Ninja
