I Should Have Bitten Harder.

Sure, I might have bitten through my tongue, but it would have hurt less than this.

I'm not ready to talk about it. I feel like I'll never be ready to talk about it. I feel like I'll never be okay to go back to work and face my coworkers who now know all about it, thanks to my having to suddenly leave work to go to the ER and then notifying them I won't be back for a few days. I feel like I should just curl up in a little ball and die.

The only--and I mean THE ONLY!--reason I'm still around is Asher. I couldn't leave him a widower so soon after getting married. It just didn't seem fair.

I never want to get out of bed again.