I am sorrow.

A difficult day. My recurring thought process goes like this:

I can’t believe my son would do these terrible things to himself and lie to us.

There must be a different explanation for the things that have happened. He must be able to explain, and then it will all make sense.

STOP IT.

No, he can’t.

And no, it won’t.

My beautiful boy…

<tears>

Confusion. Pain. Grief.

sorrow

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