i tell myself, christine, you have to keep it together.
but this is the hard part: the waiting. the being strong. the hoping for the best.
it’s strange how my comfort comes in your understanding. you know how i feel because you’ve been there. in fact, you have more to mourn because you lost someone close to you just last week/this weekend/yesterday. the people i love are still alive — struggling, but alive.
suddenly the phrase “every second counts” makes all the sense in the world. suddenly i remember everything i want to tell everyone. if i could just get you all into a room and give you a group hug i’d feel a hell of a lot better.