I miss that little kid. I miss her so much that my thoughts become peppered with what if’s and how and where’s. It is paralysis while still outwardly functioning, if only by muscle memory. I have turned various shades of blue denying my accusator, it has perhaps less effects than a placebo pill on a stage 4 cancer patient. While my musings here are a vague attempt to disguise my anger and anxiety over the matter. Driving by a little kids school watching parents take them too or from is an exercise in enduring pain I cannot attempt to describe. I pray for every man and woman to have the good fortune of tucking their child into bed or make them their favorite breakfast, I can’t help but yearn for mine.
In short, death means nothing but not before I make it right. After that it maybe just what the doctor ordered.
I want you to know my little princess, with all my flaws, I will do anything for you, I am struggling beyond compare but I will make it right with you.