the site has been more
the site has been more webloggy than journal this past month. its probably gonna stay that way for a while.
i just cant bring myself to offer a running commentary of my thought processes. flow-of-consciousness writing would be awfully depressing right now; i wouldnt want to read it, how can i expect you to?
emotions are up and down, but more down than up. tears still flow all too frequently.
im depressed. my legs havent been shaved since i was in homer. some dishes havent been washed since then, either (just the ones on the bottom of the pile, you see). no nails have been painted, but at least i clip them once in a while. cooking has been left to fast food restaurants - perhaps thats part of the reason im not eating as often, or as much, as i ought.
im angry. at myself for not being there for melissa. at the 16 year old girl who didnt even tap her damn brakes before plowing into the motorcycle. at my father for being an all-around asshole. and at God for not giving me a chance to save her, for taking away my future with her, for not protecting her.
im sad. that my children will never have the chance to know her. that we will not be able to grow old and crotchety together. that i will never see her in a wedding gown. that i will never again be awoken by her tearful phone calls. that i cannot go to her graveside on a whim.
im indecisive. i really want to have a physical thing that says 'i loved my baby sister and by getting a copy of her tattoo on my body i will never forget her.' but will i regret it when im not in the throes of sharp grief? the idea of tattooing has never appealed to me - will i come to hate it?
do not attempt to cheer me up - its only been just over a month. do not ask me how i am doing; you do not really want to know, and i really do not want to get into it. do not tell me that Gods will has a purpose and all things work together for the fucking good. let me know youre thinking of me, but do not say that youre sorry.
im grieving. let me.
2002
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