|Look at my babies!!! This was years ago! 2008...|
Three days, and counting.
Three, nearly four days, and the only thing you have done is shout at me, cry, throw the phone, scream, not listen…
Three days or more, I lose count because it feels like forever. Three days of reliving 'those words' , because when you are in this place, it is having that Dr say to me over and over
"Madame WOOD on attend pas qu'il va souvivre…chaque heure - meme un demi heure, compte…je regrette vous dire, mais on attends qu'il va mourir…'
I heard those words.
'We don't think it likely that he will live, we don't expect him to survive."
Of my best friend, my soul mate, my everything, I heard this, that
"you would not be here.'
I didn't believe it, I thought you would be, that's why, even after they told me the worst, I carried on writing these letters, for you to read when you woke up… Only it didn't happen like that, it didn't happen how I expected, how I begged, pleaded, prayed.
You haven't come back.
I take each day step-by-step, I take each step, day-by-day.
I think I still wait.
I think I still wait in denial.
I think I still wait for my best friend who will return, wrap me up in his long awaiting arms.
I think I still wait for you…
You do not come.
But my angel, I STILL wait,
Never giving up,