I feel like I’ve come a long way since I wrote SeventeenYears.
Never far enough for forgiveness but I think maybe far enough for acceptance.
I thought that this year I’d escaped the usual crushing grief that follows me around through March and April.
I’ve been busy living life and loving the man and trying to make it count but as I write this I can’t stop the usual flow of tears that leave me unable to see anything but a blur, and the big lump in my throat that is so painful it feels like I’ll never be able to swallow again.
I have come a long way in Seventeen Years but never far enough for forgiveness.