ANNA

Despite the rollercoaster-like nature of the previous year, I still hadn’t discovered inner peace. One year without Marco, without visiting his tomb, was one year of suffering. A puzzle piece mysteriously vanished from my heart one spring day as if it no longer desired to be there. That piece of the puzzle was still missing today, another spring day. Nothing and nobody had taken its place. I never permitted that to happen.

Did I recover? No, not even close. Since this ...