The smell on the pillow

It was only a day or so after the dramatic and traumatic night that I left Brent. Dealing with the internal conflict between what I wanted and what I needed. I had no idea that the decisions I would need to make were soon to become a lot more complicated.

What I needed was to be safe. I needed to be with people who loved me. People who would never hurt me and would protect me with their entire being.

What I wanted was to be in Brent’s arms. He had been sending me loving messages of how much he loved and needed me.

I was curled up in a sofa chair, crying my eyes out, looking like I’d been doing so for weeks. My three and a half year old nephew was playing in the same room. He walked over to me and placed his gentle little hand on me and said “Aunty, why are you crying? Is it because you miss Brent?” all I could say was  “Yeah buddy”.

What were these tears specifically about? I was so mad that my sister had washed the last thing I had that smelled like Brent. My pillow from our bed. I had been hysterically crying and yelling at her, so angry that she’d taken a choice away from me.

Reflecting on my life, I truly hope that my family and friends know, that even though I resisted much of their love and support, that I am so grateful and so very thankful that they pushed me to get through those first few months.

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