This time, there are no tears. This time, there is only emptiness and I feel it set in the straight line of my mouth. I am not strong enough for this. I want an earthquake, a hurricane, anything – even a devil, the one with the cloven hoof – Mrs. Leed’s unfortunate 13th child – to rush out and stomp on me, break me into little pieces and hurl me to the stars, let me go back with those people I love. Please.

You go to bed different… tossing and turning is the norm… you wake to a sunny day but clouds follow you wherever you go. You wonder if you are strong enough to climb out of the depression you are living in and your prayers to God seem empty because you are sooo very tired of telling him the same thing over and over again….. if we are really being real… there may even be moments after impact you forget how to pray… maybe you don’t even want to.

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