Today marks the 21 month mark since Pablo's death. I just don't even know what to think anymore. Why does this have to be so damn hard? Why did this have to fucking happen? When do I get to have a semblance of a life again?
I think sometimes that things would be so much easier if only I could know what was going to happen in the future. I could more easily bide my time if I knew exactly when things would start happening.
Sigh. I hate the uncertainty almost as much as I hate the pain.