(no subject)
Aaaaahhhhh....blessed acceptance. I fought it. I HATE it. But it's set in. I've been ok, for the most part, because I've been busy. For the first time in three weeks, though, I'm starting to think I might actually be ok. I dreamed about Michael thursday night. I don't remember anything other than the setting, and that he said Hi and I hugged him and cried. He asked me why I was so upset. That's all I remember. Since then, I've felt awful for two days. It wasn't comforting, it was heartbreaking.