gabrielah47
Spring is a time of love. A time of new life. Blooming Flowers. Tree leaves sprouting. It’s all quite beautiful and promising. For me, it’s a time of dying. I know my time is near and unfortunately, I cannot stop it. I only found out yesterday. The people around me don’t know how long I have left in this world, in their lives. I know it’s not enough. It won’t matter soon enough, I suppose. I debate whether or not to tell them. I don’t want them to act anything but normal around me for the time I have left. I want them to laugh and scream and cry the way they would otherwise, not because I am dying. They’ll have plenty of time for that once I’m gone. Then, I wouldn’t have to witness it. The pain in their eyes, the sorrow in their voice, their gentle touch because they are so afraid the wrong amount of strength or force will break me… I could not handle that.
writing since 2011 · 2 entries · 1 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Stringel showed up.
1longest streak
1days written
14entries / week
the words Stringel reaches for
dyingspringlovebloomingflowerstreesproutingbeautifulpromisingnearunfortunatelycannotstoplivesmattersoon