A woman on the verge.
Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/

A month later and the air still feels heavy and acrid. A month later and you are still trying to make sense of it all. A month later and everything feels like it’s falling apart. And still, there is no one to hold your hand, or to tell you that the pain will lessen in time. Tough love is the order of the day, and pretty soon you will likely get tired of it all and retreat further into yourself. You are tired. Tired of not having a moment to grieve. Of being subjected to someone’s unrelenting anger. Of people asking what you need and ignoring your response completely. Really, all you have is you now. Just you.  And memories. And on Monday, an urn filled with what remains of her.