I am waiting to heal.  Only the passage of time will tell whether or not my stupid heart will repair itself.  In the meantime, I wait and try not to be upset about the possibilities.  It’s hard, I will not lie.

So, what do I do while I wait?  I think about what was because what might be is too scary. 

I think about my parents because they’ve been through this but they aren’t around to talk about it.  Isn’t that the ultimate irony?  I think about the things I now understand about my parents that I couldn’t possibly have understood at the time.  And I forgive.