11 days...

11 days, 11 days, 11 days.   I'd be lying if I said it gets any easier every year.  I'd be lying if I said I am hanging in there.  I'd be lying if I said I was ignoring the sadness that accompanies this time of year.  I'd be lying if I said each passing year makes me remember the good times and forget what happened that night.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't right on the cusp of a complete breakdown, and even I myself don't understand how I'm holding it together.


I'm not a very good liar.