Every year, on the anniversary of the day I was taken, I just KNOW what day it is, without a calendar. About a week before I can't sleep, I jump out of my skin over every sound, I can't be pulled out of bed. I've barely spoke a word in two weeks, can't get out of bed. It's like I live in two places at once, all the time. I know there is a wall behind me but I feel a forest. I can't sleep, when I close my eyes I feel this world fall away and the other one take control. I FEEL like I am still there. Sometimes I ask myself, what if this is all a dream? A way to make myself feel better? What if I am still back there? I feel like that tonight. Like this isn't real and I am still there. What if we leave a piece of ourselves behind? If that were true, I think that would be comforting right now. The idea that the bad stuff got left behind, like I could fill in the hole with good stuff and be better. Is that crazy?
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