Lone Star Soul | Part One of Fireflies

Remember the pain of watching little girls try to deal with their grief.

The silent tears in an attempt to act grown up and keep it together, but not knowing where to draw strength from. Tears coming off and on, struggling to maintain some sense of normalcy. Red eyes and shaking shoulders, clinging to the surrounding people for comfort. Crying too hard to breathe, too young to completely understand what's happening. 

The 'I love yous' keep getting stuck in my throat because I cry when I say them and crying gives me a headache. They're harder to say than they used to be but I say them anyway because it's a privilege to be hurt by some people.

Oh, dear heaven, but why does it have to hurt so much?

I cried again when I had to say goodbye. Out of love and fear that it might be the last time. I just have to remember the feeling of her little hand in mine to pull me through until I see her again. I hate saying goodbye, but never getting the chance to say it is worse. 


It's dark outside, but I think I see the light.