She doesn’t understand.
“ It’s been five years, it’s time to get over it” said my mom.
But how can she not understand? That it hasn’t been five years for me. It’s like I blinked and here I am in this unknown world trying to survive. Trying to act like I am happy when I am dying inside. How can she not understand that I wake up every morning thinking I woke up from a bad dream only to realize that bad dream is my life and isn’t so much a dream but reality.
Yet I say, “ I know Mom, I’m over it.” But even I can’t lie that good.