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Earlier post:
I'm feeling exceptionally morose and I'm not sure why. It's been months now since it all. I guess bottled up emotions have a sell-by date, after all.
I know we're not planning. Not for a few years, at least. I know I'm not ready. I know I'm not good enough yet. I know, I know, I know.
But the fact remains, painfully etched in my heart that we almost became three. And if they said we could carry on, the date would have been around the 16th to the 20th of April 2006. The 20th of April 2006? Alongside the 20th April 1979, 1981 and 2005? How beautiful would that be? How perfect. How so very perfect.
But they said I can't. For I'll already be fighting a losing battle. Emotionally and physically. And that maybe, I'll never come back. Or I'll never hear that cry.
They told me not to cry. They told me try not to feel, try not to break. They said try to accept the seriousness of the actual situation. Not the painful glare of the surface. Not the painful present of loss. They said we could try again when the time is right, when we're planning, when we know.
How was I not supposed to cry? How was I not supposed to break? How did I pull through it all?
Who gave me that strength I didn't even know I had?
Who gave me this life I thought I wouldn't live?
My Azim honey babushuknya, more than ever, I'll need you forever.
You're all that I have, want and need.
I know we're not planning. Not for a few years, at least. I know I'm not ready. I know I'm not good enough yet. I know, I know, I know.
But the fact remains, painfully etched in my heart that we almost became three. And if they said we could carry on, the date would have been around the 16th to the 20th of April 2006. The 20th of April 2006? Alongside the 20th April 1979, 1981 and 2005? How beautiful would that be? How perfect. How so very perfect.
But they said I can't. For I'll already be fighting a losing battle. Emotionally and physically. And that maybe, I'll never come back. Or I'll never hear that cry.
They told me not to cry. They told me try not to feel, try not to break. They said try to accept the seriousness of the actual situation. Not the painful glare of the surface. Not the painful present of loss. They said we could try again when the time is right, when we're planning, when we know.
How was I not supposed to cry? How was I not supposed to break? How did I pull through it all?
Who gave me that strength I didn't even know I had?
Who gave me this life I thought I wouldn't live?
My Azim honey babushuknya, more than ever, I'll need you forever.
You're all that I have, want and need.
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