Lovely Trigger

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Physical therapy was hell on earth.  It was pain, futility, and frustration, all with a feeling of hopelessness because I knew that it could only do so much.  But I gave it my all.  I had too much pure stubborn grit inside of me to do anything else.

I was only twenty-one, quickly approaching twenty-two, but I’d never in my life felt young before Tristan.  With him, for a while, I’d felt young and carefree, with my life ahead of me.  A promising life.

As though it had all been a dream, some kind of a spell, that careless joy disappeared from my heart again as quickly as it had come.  I was back to being the oh so responsible woman that I was meant to be.

I never cried a tear of self-pity.  That had never been my poison.  Bitter was my poison, and it took every ounce of character I possessed not to let it consume me.

I missed him.  I couldn’t even lie to myself about that.

I missed him dreadfully.

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