In less than a few hours, the clock will roll over to midnight. It will be August 18, marking 6 months since Ethan's passing. This has been looming over me for a couple of days, like a fierce storm on the horizon; you can see, it, you know it's coming, but maybe if you hope hard enough, it will make a quick right and leave you be. While this would not be impossible for even the most wicked of hurricanes, not so with the ticking of the clock. That next second is already destined to arrive and turn into a minute, an hour, a day… 6 months… And so it is there, staring me down, trying to "see what I'm made of". But, Tomorrow, I'll save you the trouble. You win, will you just leave me alone now if I throw up my hands? No need to pass through here, displaying your finery, "proving your points" and such. We both already know that you are greater than me. One portion of you, one moment, one tenth of one of your seconds, is greater than the whole of my parts. I can not handle you, Tomorrow.
To all of my friends, those of you who think that I am strong, that I'm a "tough cookie", that I'll be alright: I'm none of those things. Yesterday was a nightmare, I barely made it through today, and I think Tomorrow just may destroy me all over again…
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