(no subject)
I still hate those numbers.. 6.6.06.
Maybe if we had just skipped that day entirely.
Because I used to sit up all night, reading so I wouldn't be left alone with my thoughts. Looking up every few minutes to see if he was still breathing. Shallow breaths. Begging god to make it stop. Telling him it was okay to go.
"It's time to go, Annie"
I haven't been able to sleep past 9am in months.
And I hate being in this house alone. The silence is murder.
I want to be excited to go back to school. I am. I'll be happy just being back. But I can't. Well.. I feel like I can't.
I can't leave her here alone. Taking care of my mother is proving to be much more work than I'd ever thought possible.
Her birthday is on Monday. We're not looking forward to it.
There are so many people. People I adored. They barely speak to me anymore.. or not at all. And all I get is "I don't know what to say."
As if I do. Somebody taught me how to do this?
How to Perfectly Deal With Death 101.
And
even though
I see right through you.
More so than I wanted to.
And I think about it more than I ever should.
I want to know if you think of me.
But that would involve speaking to you.
I choose No.
And I choose to put my fat cats on a diet. It's not going over so well.
Which is fine with me.. I like the rolly pollys.
Maybe if we had just skipped that day entirely.
Because I used to sit up all night, reading so I wouldn't be left alone with my thoughts. Looking up every few minutes to see if he was still breathing. Shallow breaths. Begging god to make it stop. Telling him it was okay to go.
"It's time to go, Annie"
I haven't been able to sleep past 9am in months.
And I hate being in this house alone. The silence is murder.
I want to be excited to go back to school. I am. I'll be happy just being back. But I can't. Well.. I feel like I can't.
I can't leave her here alone. Taking care of my mother is proving to be much more work than I'd ever thought possible.
Her birthday is on Monday. We're not looking forward to it.
There are so many people. People I adored. They barely speak to me anymore.. or not at all. And all I get is "I don't know what to say."
As if I do. Somebody taught me how to do this?
How to Perfectly Deal With Death 101.
And
even though
I see right through you.
More so than I wanted to.
And I think about it more than I ever should.
I want to know if you think of me.
But that would involve speaking to you.
I choose No.
And I choose to put my fat cats on a diet. It's not going over so well.
Which is fine with me.. I like the rolly pollys.