twenty-seven.

twenty-seven.

I hid away most of the weekend.

Not really because I wanted to, but because it was comfortable.

I needed comfort more this weekend than most.

He was gone and the babies and I shut the world out.

Is this what twenty-seven will be like?

The twenty-seventh chapter.

What will this chapter unfold?

Will I dress more confidently? Will I finally get the things I've worked for?

Will the flooring in my house be fixed? Will I finally get that fresh start?

Will the ghost of my former self come back?

The ghost is the me that I once was.

Me before the trauma, the loss, the heartache, the cruelty.

It seems that the ghost is always hiding from the real person.

She hides because she feels the real person is scary.

But the real person has to be scary in order to survive.

The real person must be scary or she will be eaten alive.

The real person must be scary or the circus will claim her again.

But the ghost, she is quiet, she is timid, but most of all, she is kind.

I've been trying to get her to return, but she hides.

Can she come back? I don't know.

Can I ever be the same again?

Maybe twenty-seven will bring her back.

-a.r.o.w.