Coming back home alone is not a nice experience for me. Bicycles lying on the ground, the nameplate on the door, walking to a dark room alone, dust layering the floor and stuff. On that day, I just opened the window to make the sunlight enter the room and directly go to bed. In the middle of the day.
It took me weeks to touch the boy's stuff.
But life must go on.
The worst feeling is that I feel this is a failure. Which is not.
This is how God told me that my plan is not good enough, His plan is better.
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