It is January 11, 2025. I have not written. I needed to regroup, and find a sense of direction. The holidays took their toll on me, and though I fought against it, the breakdown came on January 6, 2025, in the early hours of the morning, just after I finished creating a video post for Emrys. He would have been 8 months old that day, and I could feel those barely-healing wounds in my heart just rip wide open.
I sat in my closet for a couple of hours, and just let the tears take over. I pictured how he would be. His perfect little face, the naughty grin, and thosee big amber colored eyes just daring me to take him to his mommy. I could feel his head pressed against my chest, as he listened to my heart beat. I could feel his cool, tiny hand pressing against my cheek. And I could smell him. Lavender. He always smelled like lavender. Fresh out of the womb, he smelled like lavender. In his tiny casket, he smelled like lavender. He never smelled like a baby, It was always lavender. So peaceful. So inviting.
As the tears began slowing down, I came to the realization that I have been doing this all alone. In the beginning, I really didn’t have anyone to talk to in the middle of the night when the pain hit the hardest. I was surrounded by people, but I was alone. I could’nt talk to Juju or David, because the trauma bond had already formed, and it would be so unhealthy for the 3 of us if we were to strengthen it. I could’nt just call someone, because it would be disrespectful to the Host. And I could’nt talk to the Host because he could’nt handle it. So I pushed everything deep inside. What I once called a Safe Place was not so safe after all.