But not as I was before I left.
I knew that I was in need of a holiday -
I just don't think I was aware of how in need I was.
I sobbed when I got there:
my final destination -
sweetpea, sweet baby T
and the comfort of their bodies.
The mental and physical break has been immense: my body rested.
The time on my own, liberating: my soul replenished.
But it was a week, only a week, and the week flew by.
I sobbed as I left -
I didn't want to go home;
I wasn't ready to resume my life.
And truth be told,
I'm still not ready.
Will I ever be ready for this life?
I'm not very sure.
Sweetpea said, "you can do this..."
I don't know if I can,
I don't know if I want to...
It's been hard to come home; it's even harder to admit that I didn't want to come home. I know, however, that this will pass, that I'll pick myself up and that life will carry on. How do I know this? Because I have to believe that it is true. I have to hope for better days.