Miss

Soon it will be two months since you died.

Even on the day you died, I could say it with a straight face, and felt like I could accept it. I don't know why it was so easy so soon for me. I guess I had to take care of dad that day, and the days that followed. He was no longer able to take care of me. I haven't done as good a job at that lately, and the tension between us is pretty much back to where it used to be. Though it's probably just me thinking there's tension - he wants us to have a good relationship, but it's so easy to be irritated at him.

The day before yesterday I cut my thumb while cleaning a knife I used to cut up some onions. Not a bad cut, just...you know, enough to bleed a little. Dad got some anti-biotic stuff and a bandaid, and fumbled through the wrapping and eventually tore the bandaid. Even little things like that make me think of you, and how you could get the damn thing open with one hand pretty much, and be squeezing out some ointment with the other. It was like you were a walking medical station. Now I can't even get a damned bandaid on without messing things up.

It's getting so much harder to think about you. Every day I have to fight off wave after wave of emotion. Sometimes I feel OK, and I know I have to move on. Other times I don't want to get out of bed, just waiting and hoping that I'll hear you downstairs frying bacon and calling me down for breakfast. You haven't yet.

I can barely see as I'm typing this, but I just have to do something...say something or else I'm going to scream and pull out my hair. This probably isn't going to help anything, but I can't bottle up my feelings anymore. It's become too toxic.

I miss you so much. Dad isn't himself, even though he's doing the same old routine we were used to. He's gone overboard with the Easter decorations, and I'm terrified to think what he'll have prepared for Easter Day. He's trying to keep the house cheerful and lively, but it doesn't do much good when 4.5 days of the week there's only one of us here.

I was going to Bennettsville tomorrow to put out the flowers, but the landscapers are coming back to finish what they didn't get done today. I'll get the flowers out there, though, I promise. The graves will look as pretty as ever.

I've got to go. Sorry

Now

I am still restless. My eyes hurt, and my head is swimming, and my body is begging me to try and sleep...but I just can't.

My mom's aunt...which I guess makes her my great aunt...died Sunday morning. After being in the hospital for two weeks, after being put there by negligent staff at physical therapy. They let her fall. That is NOT supposed to happen, and if anything, they should be sued to the point that the facility has to fucking shut down.

She was perfectly healthy and was trying to build up muscle strength in one foot.

Read that again.

One foot. Just a little weak and was beginning to drag a little, so she went to build it back up in strength. And now she's fucking dead. That is beyond appalling.

The funeral is Wednesday, and I am a pallbearer. I've never done this before, and I don't know if I will again.

I'm nervous as hell. I'm upset at a lot of my family (not parents for once). My mind is just swimming.

Now, here I am. Without you, awake. I need to drink myself out of this week.

Right...

Did that last post seem typical and emo-y of me?

Probably.

Am I going to keep that post to remind myself yet again of things that need doing?

Yes.

Is there anything else I have to say on the subject right now?

No.

Is that unusual?

No.

Why am I still asking questions?

No clue, but I don't seem capable of stopping.

Will I stop now?

Sure.

Long Times Again

It's another restless night where I don't know what it is I need to say, or should say. Anything would do at this point, but nothing comes out, as usual. I want to talk to you, and I do to an extent. Still, even then my words feel so empty and routine.

It's the same old story, though. The same lines, the same pattern, the same go-around that we always do and it ends the same way: me sorry and you irritated because I've yet again done nothing to change things for the better.

You're dozing off now, looking quite content. You said you were tired, and you flopped over on the bed so that it looked like the weight of the whole day had come down with you. I can't stop watching you, wishing so much to hold you again, to kiss you and tell you I love you as we both happily drifted asleep.

I can say these things, sure, but it's just flattery and adoration, things I always throw your way. But why can't I go on about other things, keep our talks lively and...I don't know, be here the way you need.

But now, here we are, these long times again being spent in silence, only adding tension. Only taking away from our time.

Just need the space

Huh...

Seems the recent FDA ban on flavored dip also included a ban on flavored cigs.

Bye-bye cloves. I barely knew thee, but our brief affair so long ago was so sweet, so delicious.

Seems I do have something in common with the raving redneck on youtube.

I do actually believe people have the right to smoke or chew if they please, and even this kind of limitation is overstepping the boundaries of government regulation, in my mind.

-sighs- The next step is to put a ban on flavored cigars, cigarillos, and anything else delicious. I may have to join the picket-lines yet...

Hola

Anyone seen the trailer for the Nightmare on Elm Street remake?

Krueger is played by the guy who played Rorschach in Watchmen, which is just awesome.

The other awesome part is this film actually takes on a serious tone, with the question of whether or not Krueger molested children being a prominent part of the plot.

I'm glad to see it's going to be super scary and wicked, but I'm hoping the movie doesn't end with the children trying to apologize and the parents see the error of their ways and Krueger forgives them and fades into a white light, or some stupid shit like that.

I want blood, and lots of it, but done artistically and as evilly as possible. I hope the parents get what's coming to them, too.