Today is my brother’s birthday. His second since he killed himself. He would have been 32. I am 33. These days I cry less, but I still think of him what feels like non-stop. His passing has numbed my ability to be empathetic or joyous. I feel like I am dealing with this all on my own sometimes. I know that isn’t true, but I also know that the world keeps turning and that people have to move on….even if I haven’t found out how to yet.