New year, old story

So here we are in 2015 and already it’s looking grim yet this is supposed to be my year! This will be my year, it will!
But….. My baby blondey blue eyes. What am I going to do with you my gorgeous? The baby; the cutest; my most precious if only by dint of being the youngest: how is it we’ve come to this? Crying at nothing again, the slightest sound, word, vision, sets it off. It feels like I’m mourning you already and we’re not even close, yet it feels…. prescient, a harbinger.
I wish it wasn’t so but where did you go? No-one can lose a third of their body weight and survive, you’re at crisis point and don’t even realise and what can we do…nothing. If I could only hug the want back into you.
Maybe I can wish you better?
Will you try for me if I visit more often, will that help?
I’m scared, I have no idea where we’re going or where we’ll end up if you don’t come back. I know it’s selfish but I do need you to try, please? Just try?
I can never experience the fear, the little taste I felt was hideous so I can understand why you might have had enough. I can’t really blame you for wanting out but we need you. You’ll always be our baby no matter what, baby blondey blue eyes, love of my life, please stay?