Day Four: 

Morning: 

I still wake up to a crippling grief. four somewhat hours ago, and cry into a drifting in and out coma, but there are no more tears left to cry, just the motion, no results. It makes me feel like vomiting. After hours of sleepy weeping curled up, too hot, but too dead inside to care, rational thought begins to seep in again, and I can see ever slight livers of the good this situation provides... I try and put away old fears, (easier now then at first) well not put them away as I don't know where to put them, more like cover them in a blanket of somewhat blind trust.
in the end I keep coming to the conclusion, while deep in my mantra of "this didn't have to happen" or " I could have done this ONE thing to prevent this" it always comes to the fact that if it hadn't happen... would I have learned?...? or would it simply have gotten worse?
I have to believe this is the best way for me to learn and grow... If I don't, then the pain is just too much.I have to believe it has purpose. I have to believe it will make me better.
I have to.