My hands shake with latent anxiety.
My heart thuds away, afraid that it's
the last time she'll ever really beat again.
My stomach has rejected sustenance,
or cannot bear the idea of having too much to purge because
this whole situation is making me sick with nerves.
I have no idea what I will say,
I fear what I may hear but I'm ready...
no I'm not.
I'm afraid to close my eyes because you might be there again.
I'm literally trembling.
But part of me hopes
