I remember the morning after my first miscarriage. It was a bright morning after my longest and darkest night. It was warm and sunny, after such a cold and shivering night of mine. Yet, I didn't know what I feel. I couldn't describe it, too.
It's like I lost a ghost that never even exist to anyone but me, and no one could understand why did I mourn for a ghost. Everything was the same and would just be the same as before, yet I never could be the way who I was before.
I simply didn't know what I feel, how I should feel, or was it a feeling at all or was it just a passing memory?