The thought of writing a blog about what has happened is something I wish I never had to do but it's my outlet.
What happens to you when you lose a child is unimaginable, unthinkable. The people close to you don't understand. Sometimes a stranger shows more compassion and understanding than your own relative.
I never claimed to be strong or a survivor but people call me that. Don't. I wish I could tell them, just don't. I'm not that strong. I'm still here because I'm a coward. Everyday I think of a way out.
People don't understand how this boy saved my life. I never had affection or love like I saw my friends or cousins get from their parents. My parents even showed more affection to my cousins than they did me. I wasn't in a good place when I found out I was pregnant, I was praying everynight not to wake up the next morning. My son saved my life. I finally had something/someone to live for that I could love and would love me back. He's gone, that true love is gone. Unconditional love. He knew the life we had. He knew the sacrifices I made, he knew how others judged me and how wrong they were. All that is gone and I don't want to be here anymore. It's really that simple.