(no subject)
I read a book today. Not so unusual for me. I wanted to call my mom and ask her if she's heard of it because I know she'll love it. I can't and she hasn't because she's dead.
It's the little things like this that shatter your heart not the actual death itself. I can purposely not think of her generally, but it's the natural instincts and reactions that I have no control over that completely come from left field and leave me feeling like I can't breathe. Like I can't possibly be a daughter without a mother.
It's the little things like this that shatter your heart not the actual death itself. I can purposely not think of her generally, but it's the natural instincts and reactions that I have no control over that completely come from left field and leave me feeling like I can't breathe. Like I can't possibly be a daughter without a mother.