I hate this day. I didn’t think I would, because we never really celebrated it, but I hate this day. I’m happy for everyone who has someone today and for those who don’t but do not let it bother them. I envy all of those people. I never expected it to feel this way.
In less than two months it will be a year since she died. I fear that day more than all the milestones that have passed combined. Today by itself has been tear-filled as I try in vain to make the time pass with anything I can get myself to do. Everything is coming together today to bring me down. “Think of it as just another day,” is the advice I’ve gotten. The other days haven’t been very kind lately, either.
I hate this fucking day.