I feel like half of my soul is empty, a shell. I wander through my day half alive thinking of him and wondering if he’s ok. Part of me is always waiting for the doorbell to ring with the police on the other side of the door coming to tell me he’s dead. He’s that reckless and the past four years have been hell. Sadly nothing involving Al surprises me anymore. So every day that passes without a knock at my door I thank God for his mercy and I wait for his call…. It’s been a long and painful wait so far.
Thanks for listening,