GOOD (TIMES EIGHT) FRIDAY
Before I had Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to entertain annoy all my friends, I had my blog. It was anonymous and private but it did the trick - it gave me a place to express my every thought and emotion.
Every now and again, I go back and read passages from my original blog. No matter how many years go by, I am instantly brought right back to that world I lived in for far too long. A world of pain, disappointment and constant uncertainty.
That all changed for me on Good Friday eight years ago. All the struggling and pain and sacrifices we had endured were resolved for once and for all. I remember everything about that day. I remember what I was wearing. I remember my phone call to Anthony. I remember seeing my mom and falling apart with tears of joy and relief. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Eight years. Wow.
Every now and again, I go back and read passages from my original blog. No matter how many years go by, I am instantly brought right back to that world I lived in for far too long. A world of pain, disappointment and constant uncertainty.
That all changed for me on Good Friday eight years ago. All the struggling and pain and sacrifices we had endured were resolved for once and for all. I remember everything about that day. I remember what I was wearing. I remember my phone call to Anthony. I remember seeing my mom and falling apart with tears of joy and relief. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Eight years. Wow.
