I'm not going to cut. I want to, so badly. But I won't. What have all these months been for. Not for throwing away.
I walk in the kitchen and step on her toys and feel as if the whole world is withering and dying around me. I see her bed and remembering putting her in it last night. I remember playing with her yesterday, throwing her stuffed tiger (which I have been caring around hugging all morning... her saliva is still on it somewhere in that matted cotton), held her on my lap, took her out potty in the rain...
I can't keep remembering.
It hurts too badly.
First in the operation I flung ice cubes into the bathtub. I watched the shatter. Picked them up and threw them harder if they didn't.
Oh my gosh it hurts so bad I can't do this I have to cut make it go away...
I CAN DO THIS...
Wow I think I'm turning schizophrenic... if it hurts this bad forever I can't live...
I can go to school tomorrow and drown myself in work and forget it, distract myself... but should I? What is the healthy thing to do? To suffer? To scream? To throw icecubes? I'd much rather drown in busyness.
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Laura Esguerra
Laura lost her battle with cancer on Saturday night. Her sister Celia blogs about her loss with love and a heavy heart at 5th and Spring .
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