I miss Donna. I miss the love I gave. I miss the love I received. I long to once again be loved into being. These emotions are paper cuts today not yesterdays lacerations. In all fairness even today they can bleed freely. Why have I not moved up or down stream? Why am I not sitting on the bank under a willow tree tossing pebbles into the water?
Read moreIs My Grief My Crutch?
Confetti Hearts