There is no Wolfpack anymore.
It is gone and I can never get it back.
I feel frantic and scared and alone. It’s as if I fell into a raging river—swept away and kept above water, barely, and fully aware it’s only a matter of time before I drown.
We’ve been here before, this is a pattern.
As if because it’s a pattern, it’s not serious and doesn’t need care.
Feeling so hurt and angry and abandoned—at an escalating rate—regardless of how logical or illogical it is, is destroying my ability to be ok.