Leila Summers | |
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![]() I sit in the darkness for a long time. Tiny ants crowd around me. I barely notice. I just sit. I smoke. In utter disbelief and despair. Perhaps I am waiting to be tired enough to go to sleep. Perhaps I'm hoping that I am asleep, and I will soon awaken from this nightmare. When I curl up into bed alone, I draw your pillow towards me, and then I see the saddest thing. Your wrinkled sleeping shorts are still under your pillow. I clutch them against me and weep until I feel as though my lungs are being torn from my chest.' Excerpt from Chapter 2 - It Rains In February: A Wife's Memoir of Love and Loss |
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