I've gotten really good at making you think I am okay. At showing you a smile, giving you a laugh. I've gotten pretty good at being productive and staying busy. Looking like I have it together. I can talk to you about those every day things. Sometimes I can even go out and try to do something fun.
But I am still dying on the inside. Behind that smile is more pain than you can know. That laugh, even if not forced, is not the same laugh it once was. That productivity and busyness is my survival. I can't be still for too long for fear of the thoughts taking over. When we talk about those every day things, all I can think about is my boy. My boy that is not here. And those fun things are still uncomfortable for me to do. To be out in public doing something like every other person when I am not like every other person, it's hard.
Dear Marcellus, even when on the outside it my seem like everything is okay, I'm still very much hurting on the inside for you. I may be able to do a lot more than I did right after you died and even enjoy some things. But none of that takes away the pain of you not being here. That will always hurt, no matter how many good, wonderful, and fun things are in my life it will always hurt to be missing you. I love you so very much my sweet boy. So so so so so very much! xoxox.
My journey of mothering my sweet boy that I hold in my heart, but not in my arms.
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