Eight years ago this week I married the love of my life. We made our vows in front of our friends and family, promising to love and honor each other until death to us part. I have broken my vows.
I’m not sleeping well. I haven’t been for a while now. Though even now I’m telling half-truths, it’s more than not sleeping well. I am fearful at night, heart-pounding fear.
I love Easter. Joy is over pouring in my heart. I will laugh and cry through this whole weekend because I can't keep it in. This is a new celebration in my life since the death of Marcus that is best explained through a journal entry written on the first Easter after his passing.
