The hard, crappy kind of days

There’s something about the hard days.

It's going down. ##sunset

A post shared by @naramilee on

Somehow, hope never fails.  I might refuse it and ignore it, but somewhere -even when I seek solitude and try to find the loneliest place – someone appears and asks “are you OK?”

One time I was a second from breaking down crying, carrying mine and Baby J’s food -while pushing her stroller- in a mall, having a really bad day, and a lady left her turn in line to carry our tray to a table.

That has happened three times.
I would be internally crying because I seldom have help or someone to do things with -I can count with the fingers of my hand the times manfriend has helped me-, and someone comes up to tell me it’s OK, they’ll give me a hand.

It’s a bad day today and I don’t know if it’s going to work out our if it’s going to be OK, but I can feel in the colors of the sunset, the love shining down on me.

And I refuse to ignore it.

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2 thoughts on “The hard, crappy kind of days

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