Healing. . .

From the Journal ~~

Saturday, November 4, 2006

I wonder if I'll notice the day when my first thought on waking isn't: Edwin is dead. Or if it will pass, unmarked, and I'll only notice it later? Trooth is, even as I say it, I don't really believe it for a while. Just lay there and turn it over in my brain, until it's real, and another day begins. Without him.

In the beginning, there was no desire to ever go to sleep. As if if I did, I'd fall into a nightmare from which I'd never get out. Now, it seems more a matter of staying awake long enough so that I actually can sleep. Making myself stay awake.