I feel like I should write, but I don’t know what to say. Benny should have been 2 on Saturday. We should have been opening presents and blowing out candles. Instead we visited his grave and sent messages on balloons to heaven. Saturday was surprisingly ok because we took the high road, we celebrated his life, however short it was. I felt lucky that he was mine, even though it was only for 17 months.
I don’t know how long I will last on the high road before I fall off and start to resent the Universe again. How long until I will feel bitterly angry and sad at all that has happened. For now, I’m going to enjoy this break from the pain, however brief and be happy that he lived, be happy that I was able to love him, and be happy that he was mine.