What is there to add. Another year by. Yet, it still feels like yesterday. The pain. Not so much the pain of your death. I don’t like it, but I have come to accept that. I have peace with your death. The pain comes from how your death was treated. The injustice. The indifference. The feeling of betrayal. They are still as sharp as the blade of a knife. Still taking a jab. Every day. Day after day.
I miss you, zusje.