This doesn’t have to be a depressing exercise, this challenge, but it so is.
I have lost contact with my son. I can’t say that out loud – writing it is painful. A great big rip in my heart. Blood drips down to my feet, stains the stratosphere under my footprints. How am I still standing.
I don’t know how it happened and I can’t fix it. If I spend too long thinking on it I teeter on the edge of my sanity. I could so very easily slip and go over, go under. That doesn’t mean for one second that I don’t think of my son. My darling boy takes up a good part of my every single day. If only that would bring him back. No questions asked, no judgement no expectation – I dream of a big hug.
There is nothing more to say. The darkness is closing in but sleep is a way off. I’ll wrestle with my thoughts into the small hours.
this loss trilogy
hug awaits my prodigal
breathing in and out