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Posted: Jul 6, 2016

A Relapse

Clutching my well-worn bible tightly to my chest like it was the last piece of hope I had left.  Warm tears spilling out of my eyes and running down my cheeks collecting on the feather pillow. I had feared this day and yet never could have grasped the painful feeling that would come over me as those old wounds were sliced open again.  A relapse is what my husband called it, but to me it was another betrayal. 

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