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It seems that the longer my son is away from me… the more I find myself hating the world. The bright, loving person within me dies a little more. I find myself growing a little colder, a little more distant, a little less interested. I am a broken spirit. I will continue to strive toward some sort of healing, though I fear it will not come when my son is no longer in my home. I fear I will forever be at a dissonance with those I once loved, those I thought of as family. I fear that my heart will once again grow hard and the black wall of my anger and pain will begin to resurface, that I will let myself sink back into the shadows where I have always felt safe, where I once found security. I am tired of feeling alone and feeling like no one can be trusted. I just want my son returned to me.


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