twenty three

at the moment, I’m despairing of ever having happier years than I have already had. and of ever being as loved as I was.

sorry … not to be super melodramatic or anything. I ought to go to sleep and stop thinking.

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

3 thoughts on “twenty three”

  1. Thinking of you lots, lately. While I plant stuff on the farm, and pull weeds, and hear birdsong. Life’s a bitch. Time is so short when you’re happy, and so long when you’re sad. But you will be better next summer. It WILL happen. Love you, sister.


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