Perhaps I’m expecting too much for the short three weeks since his passing. I find myself breaking down several times a day, when privacy allows it. I can’t function for 5 min. without him wandering into my mind.

How did I miss this in the very beginning? What if I’d had my phone with me? Could I have changed things? What could I have done better?

All of these questions, rolling around in my head as if they were massive boulders, crashing into each other and bruising my thoughts.

I want to run away somewhere and leave every thought behind…but this isn’t real life; this is just fantasy.

Time will heal, they say.

Nothing heals this. It may deaden over time, but the wound will still be open.