So I sat there, on the floor of my laundry room and wept. Perhaps the stress of tomorrow is getting to me. Maybe I am losing my mind. I just hurt so much I can't breathe. I would sell my soul to have one more moment with him. And yes, I am a Christian. And I find some comfort in knowing I will see him again. But he was four. And he was my little man. And now, we are both alone, in brand new worlds.
It is really hard knowing there is no more "Sweet dreams, little man." No more kisses. And it is worse knowing that I loved him so much that even he couldn't question my devotion. I am angry that my honey's family all have their kids, and their lives have gone on. Their kids won't even remember him in ten years. Some will never even have met him. He will be a face in a frame, with no feelings attached.
I hate rollercoasters.