I called my mum to talk to her but
most importantly to find out how my boys were. I heard laughter in the
background, so much noise, then I heard someone crying. They sounded happy.
That should make me happy. I didn't get to talk to them, the conversation ended
shortly after.
Words can’t explain how difficult
this is. The emptiness of my apartment can be soothing sometimes but at other
times like this when I wish I could see them for a short while, it rips me
apart. The most difficult thing about being an intern for me is being alone.
Life is an irony. The very
structures put in place to help me pull through this phase make it extremely
difficult for me. No doubt life is a lot better physically and I dare say
generally, but deep down, it is an emotional turmoil. Sometimes I tell myself
it would have been better to sweat it out with them here.
Parting with your child can be very
draining emotionally. It becomes a choice between satisfying your selfish
emotional craving and providing a stable environment for the little one who
deserves nothing less.
I made the right decision for my
boys or so I’d like to believe. That is the only way I can live with myself. I
miss my boys.
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