Tonight I was reading a novel about a girl who relives her last day over and over again. During the final iteration of her last day, she has the privilege of knowing it truly is her last, so she savors every small moment she has with her family and her friends; taking note of the smallest details and treasuring them, knowing it will be her last chance to do so.
When I put the book down, I was incredibly distraught. I left the room where my husband and daughter were sleeping and I locked myself in the bathroom.
I sat on the toilet lid and sobbed great gasping sobs that caved in my chest and hurt my throat. I tried to remain silent, but every few moments a sound like a wounded animal would claw its way out of my mouth.
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