I am uncertain. Aloof and betrayed. I feel the spirit of her flowing through me, stifled by my current existence.

But, her freedom would be my end.

I pretend it is here, and everyone can see clearly it is not. I was something more than a wife. A mother. A sister. A friend. I was what we all strive to become. And I have lost sight of the very things that brought me here. Can no one see past the doorway?

Light the candles on the altar. The time has come to breathe and deceive and reckon. We are all alive and fighting to live. We are all dying to become who we believe we see in each other. Look inside and remember the broken pieces. They are all you will wish you had in the end. They are all I wish I had saved for this darkness.

It’s funny. I don’t remember the sadness. Only the feeling of living as though today were not a guarantee of tomorrow.

And that broken isn’t always a tragedy.


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