Last night I fell apart.

I truly just sobbed and sobbed.

I cried until I couldn’t breathe.

I was angry

I was broken.

I found myself screaming at God

The crazy thing is that nothing had happened.

Well nothing major.

I just came across a forgotten photograph of Livvy.

One that I hadn’t seen in such a long time.

You see I had uploaded it to a photo printing site that I don’t use that often, but a discount email spurred me into a visit.

As I scrolled through photos of my foster son there right at the beginning was a few that I must have uploaded over 7 years ago.

There was her sweet beautiful face.

Just looking out at me.

For just one precious moment she felt so close.

Then reality struck and I realised she was completely out of reach.

I catch my breathe as I write that. The physical pain of her missing tightens like a noose on my heart.

Grief is a funny old journey. No thats not the truth there is nothing funny about it.

It destroys you, it slowly epps away the person you were before the loss and leaves you with a shadow of what was once.

Your heart is never the same.

I needed to cry last night.

I needed to allow myself the freedom to grieve.

To drop the facade and allow myself to feel.

Being brave is hard.

Being strong is exhausting.

You cannot live in the world of pretence forever.

I’m not ok.

I never will be.

My heart is broken.

My soul aches for my daughter.

My arms are empty.

A part of me is forever missing.