and I miss you very much, baby boy. Tears are less frequent now and days are less painful. Anger is almost gone and life has taken a sort of new undertone routine. I can laugh sometimes. I have days when I can also concentrate at work and make the job done.
But if I should define how I feel, probably one word is enough: empty. I feel almost nothing, I'm not interested. I just miss my boy and I know that I'm not where I'd like to be, again. I don't feel chatty and it's like I'm living inside me most of the time. Sometimes it's strange, some other times I guess it's like I became, after all I've gone through. Or maybe at the moment there isn't space for much more than survival, still.