Simple its not

The past bears down, a blood tide churning up bones. The weight of it it squeezes me. Wrings me out, tears flowing. Suppressed here, where weakness or the perception of weakness would destroy my carefully crafted edifice. I feel like I’m flying apart, locked down. Isolation required before the inevitable crumble of will. It squeezes my heart, these days leading to anniversary. Ten years gone and I still can’t let you go.

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