On Friday I cried on the phone with one of my survivor friends because some days it is just hard all over again. Most days have been good, so it catches me off guard. I tell her it is not fair. It is not fair to have this to deal with when this is not mine. I think that I can't quite convince myself that it is true. _ ___ ________ __ __ ___. Is that true? I can't quite convince myself that there is not a chance that it is not true. She tells me it is true. It feels like someone else's truth.
MP says that whether or not I know if _ ___ ________ __ __ ___ the process is the same. Well, okay, then, I guess it just does not matter if. I guess I will continue to deal with this when this is not mine and not even know if. My grief about not knowing catches me off guard. This again. My grief about the unfairness of not knowing, and knowing.
