It's my birthday today, and I have to say that I haven't felt quite right about it since the day I robbed my first child of his/her birthday.
I understand what happened and why. It was tragic... in some ways like a careless accident. It was not "me", not who I am, not what I wanted, etc. I am sorry, have been sorry, will never stop being sorry. I believe in God, and I believe I have been forgiven. I don't feel that I have a duty to suffer or that my suffering is in any way redemptive. I understand that "coming to terms" with what happened and "moving on" would serve myself and my family much more positively and efficiently than being unable to resolve it. I am thoughtful; I've had a little over seven years to contemplate it so far. I am fully aware, yet this awareness doesn't make it any less horrible or any more bearable.
Someone very special is missing from my life. Missing from my arms, by my hands. It is what it is.
And birthdays aren't at all what they used to be.
:: ashli 3:00 AM # ::
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