Ink Stained Soul…

I didn’t cry, I froze. Shock washed over me like I was just slapped across the face. Was it the words, the way they were said, or the person who said them? I don’t know. That’s the crack where time stopped for me. The moment I remember thinking, ‘This is how he sees me and I was trying to be caring.’ The bruise was so deep; I still recall it took hours before I could cry. The date etched in my tortured heart. That’s when the grief started.