Regret...
So, today I've been feeling particularly down. It might have something to do with finishing The Dogs of Babel. It was a sweet little read, and certainly a haunting story, but the problem is, his wife stays dead. Hah, I don't know what I expected. I'm still not cool with the mortality thing. Yesterday, Marion and I sat down and had a serious discussion about what do if something happens to either of us. In the case of and accident happeneing, and marion being taken to the hospital, I am to contact his mother, then his father, and then my parents- I am to try to not drive myself- perhaps have someone else take me if immediately available, since I'm not sure I trust my judgement in that sort of a panic.
In the case of my accident, he is to remind the first paramedic he is able to speak to of my allergies to penicillun and nickel and warn them about possible Von Wilderburns (if that's how you spell it) then he is to call my mother and then my father, and then his parents in either order. We went over eachothers medical conditions, and usual perscriptions (although we already knew them) just in case. It wasn't a fun thing to think about, but I wanted to put our minds ay ease a little.
Then this morning, I read some of the back-entries of Peggy's journal. The ones about me. I wound up feeling overwhelming regret for the way I'd hurt her, and wishing I'd fought harder to keep her. I always figured I was the more injured party- but I'm just not so sure that's true anymore. I didn't take enough time to think about how my actions must have looked from her perspective. It's enough to make me a little pissed at myself. The stupid things you fail to do when you're young, you know? I martyred myself to death. I cannot believe how irritating I've been.
I like to think that I've corrected a bunch of that, but I'm still overzealous, maybe. I'm passionate, and let that get the better of me constantly. I need to keep myself in check
In the case of my accident, he is to remind the first paramedic he is able to speak to of my allergies to penicillun and nickel and warn them about possible Von Wilderburns (if that's how you spell it) then he is to call my mother and then my father, and then his parents in either order. We went over eachothers medical conditions, and usual perscriptions (although we already knew them) just in case. It wasn't a fun thing to think about, but I wanted to put our minds ay ease a little.
Then this morning, I read some of the back-entries of Peggy's journal. The ones about me. I wound up feeling overwhelming regret for the way I'd hurt her, and wishing I'd fought harder to keep her. I always figured I was the more injured party- but I'm just not so sure that's true anymore. I didn't take enough time to think about how my actions must have looked from her perspective. It's enough to make me a little pissed at myself. The stupid things you fail to do when you're young, you know? I martyred myself to death. I cannot believe how irritating I've been.
I like to think that I've corrected a bunch of that, but I'm still overzealous, maybe. I'm passionate, and let that get the better of me constantly. I need to keep myself in check