Don’t respond to this.

Rebecca Anne
Jul 28, 2017 · 5 min read
The last place I thought you could see through my eyes.

I first thought about speaking to you again after Mother’s day, last year. Your first without her. Still and always a glutton for punishment, I was browsing through your photos and notes and stumbled upon your entry about her death. We talked about it when we were together, I’d seen this love and this heartbreak before, but mostly I saw confusion and anger. Reading your words, I was reminded that you had lived a life that I had never heard, had a…

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Rebecca Anne

Written by

mental health awareness gladiator // dreamcatcher // liver of tall tales and writer of short stories

Invisible Illness

We don't talk enough about mental health.

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