To help humanize the overwhelming statistics, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer and senior staff photographer at Getty Images, John Moore, visited an Ebola treatment center of the organization, Doctors Without Borders in Paynesville, Liberia. At the treatment center, survivors spoke about the brothers, sisters, husbands and wives they lost due to the disease. They also spoke of recovery, stigmas they continue to face in their villages and renewed hope.
This is dedicated to all of the anger I’m not allowed to feel because of what society deems “a good enough reason”.
This is dedicated to the depression and the pain that are overlooked and under-addressed because someone else’s pain matters more.
This is dedicated to the use and abuse of those that I love, that I cannot stop, because they are doing it to themselves, because of someone else.
This is dedicated to all the sacrifices I have made (including my own sanity most of the time) because of the lies and manipulation of someone else.
This FUCK YOU is dedicated to you.
It’s not forever.
Three little words that I keep repeating to myself over and over, in hopes that someday they will make me feel better. The problem? I don’t know when it will end.
You will keep leaving for the foreseeable future. This is your job now, this leaving. So I cannot look far enough into the future and see an ending to this. It leaves me in pain. I want to fall asleep in your arms every night. I want to lie on the bed and boot up the xbox and play. I want to stay up late with you talking until the early hours of the morning, when we wrap ourselves tightly in one blanket, throw open the window, and breathe in the sweet dewy smell as the clock strikes one.
12 days out of the month is all you are home, and during this four, my heart broke. I want you there for the good times, there for the bad ones (with a pint of ben + jerry’s too, and a whole lot of love). This week was too hard for you to always be gone.
I miss you, I want you to come home.