I met with a good friend for dinner tonight. And the entire time, I struggled to be "normal."
And by normal, I mean the old me. I don't know who I'm trying to fool more - myself? Or my family and friends?
The moment Sawyer died, it was all different. In an instant, we were blindsided with our new existence. We had no choice but to take it upon ourselves to carry this grief, and all the change that comes with it, upon our backs.
Now I'm left with the remnants. Trying to pick up the pieces of my life that broke into a million shards of glass. Each one is sharp and jagged, bringing with it pain while leaving a new scar on my heart.
And the pieces...
They never fit back together again the way they're supposed to.