Having just reread the post about my cousin's death, I realized that I pulled in. I had a sad and yet blessed Christmas. I shared it with very good friends. I was warm and dry and relaxed. And yet I cried at the drop of a hat and got angry. And now, back at work, I keep telling myself I'm just too busy. But that's not the only truth.
I don't know what to do with this whole death thing. My guilt and my frustration have not faded, it seems.
Eventually, I'll know. Eventually I'll write it down.
But not yet. Not yet.
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