Get some rest?
I miss my brother. I don’t like to talk about his death, because I usually end up using it as a justification for why I’m acting stupid or yelling for “no good reason.” But I’ve decided it is a good reason. When someone dies people give you the courtesy three weeks to mourn and be irrational, but after that they figure they’ve given you your time and you’re not allowed to use it as an excuse anymore. Well Fuck that. It’s a damn good excuse. My brother died. My fucking brother, my flesh and blood. And not only did he die, but he died saving someone else’s life. That’s not fair. He left five children and a wife, and there is no way in hell she can manage five children on her own. The youngest didn’t even meet his father. He was still in her fucking stomach when he died. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how I was the worst sister in the world. I took every fucking moment I ever spent with him for granted. He lived across a fucking ocean, I saw him once a year at most, and I didn’t even give a shit. I didn’t miss him one bit. A fucking ocean wasn’t enough for me. HE HAD TO DIE FOR ME TO MISS HIM. You can’t even imagine how fucking horrible that makes me feel everyday of my life. I hate myself for that. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him, the last thing I said to him, why didn't i hold on to him for that much longer? So I’m sorry if you think that feeling bad about it is unnecessary, but if I have a “bad day” I’m not lying… I really am having a bad day and if I get upset then I get upset and you can choose to support me or not, but I happen to think that feeling bad about it is very necessary.