18 Years

autumn-colorful-colourful-33109
by Pixabay

(100 word challenge)

You,
arrived to a new country,
new culture,
without family,
without friends,
only me to greet you,
welcome you,
create a home.

Me,
struggling with depression
and mania.

Passion,
the glue that bound us.

Never doubt.
Don’t Dream It’s Over.

We,
raising two exceptional daughters,
a manic-depressive son,
a daughter that died,
a son that would struggle.

Her death.
My clinical depression.
Your isolation and loneliness.

The pressure broke us.

She saved you.

You came back.

Years of painful healing,
incrementally building,
growing,
learning to accept
and love
each other as we are.

The 18th anniversary.

I still love you.

Author: lisabarkerauthor

Indie author.

2 thoughts on “18 Years”

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