In 4 days it will be 9 months. 9'months since this started. 9 months without my son. Today was hard. Most days are hard. Today especially. A million memories flashed in my mind today. It started the cracks. The cracks I feel that run deep in my soul. The cracks that make my eyes water behind the mirror aviators I wear. This hurts. It's a pain that even when it's gone has scarred me so bad I am never in my life going to forget it. I am a bull. A bull that has plowed through days and weeks because I don't have time for the breakdown. I don't have time for the pity party and the emotion because I got shit to do. I got moves to make and even with all that I do there is so much that is not done. I am trying. I am trying so fucking hard. Jason is too. As much as I want to take a knee and sit it out for a while I can't. He is in the middle of this fucking maniacal game and he needs support. He needs back-up. He needs his mom.
No matter how tired she is.
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