This shit hurts.
I didn’t even want to write it here.
I didn’t want to remember that here, in this very diary, 16 years ago, I had a son.
and now he’s gone.
and sometimesI get so guilty and so wracked with this terrible feeling of just being misplaced.
and nobody understands.
they want to.
but he killed himself.
my son hurt so much and I failed to be the type of mom to fix it.
and nothing anybody says helps.
neither does this writing.