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I'm struggling. Ever since the knock I've found it hard to get by. I have a one year old and I'm trying to be strong for him.



I wrote this about that day...


The knock

17.11.25



It didn’t start as a knock.

At first it was a ring of the doorbell.

It startled us at 5:47 so we ignored it.

But then it turned into a knock.

Firm. Then firmer. Then louder.

He answered it and didn’t come back.

He’ll never come back now.



That knock took away who I thought he was.

That knock changed everything.

Took everything.

Almost everything.



That day the knock took a piece of me and destroyed it forever.



Trust? Gone.

Safety? Gone.

Hope? Gone.



I hear that knock when I close my eyes at night, when I’m rocking my baby to sleep again and again, and when I’m alone in bed, staring at the place that he used to be.

That knock comes out of the darkness and surrounds me.

It haunts me.

That knock will never leave me or let me have peace again.



But it isn’t the knock to blame.

Not really.

It’s him.

He broke us, broke our lives and broke me.



So that day that knock changed my life forever.

But it wasn’t really the knock.

It was him.