(no subject)
I wouldn't say the pain gets better as the days pass, though I know better than to think it'll lessen in just a few days. It changes in flavor, I guess. It's not the hysterics that we were in when it first happened. Now it's a sickly ache when I think about him or imagine him flopping around and rubbing his back in his ferret bed in times of contentment, or when I saw him in that horrible half hour after the accident.
We've been clinging to memories of him, deathly afraid to forget any minute detail we hold or can imagine. There's a notion that we can't do Marcus the disservice of forgetting anything about him, and intense guilt at any thought of that. But I think it's also us desperately holding onto whatever is left to us to hold onto, because we're not ready to let go.
Karena wants very badly to have a dream about him, or a sign, some symbol of closure. I can understand that desire, and I hope this closure comes, in some form or another. Our subconscious is notoriously fickle, of course, so it seems there's no telling what exactly it will be.
We've been clinging to memories of him, deathly afraid to forget any minute detail we hold or can imagine. There's a notion that we can't do Marcus the disservice of forgetting anything about him, and intense guilt at any thought of that. But I think it's also us desperately holding onto whatever is left to us to hold onto, because we're not ready to let go.
Karena wants very badly to have a dream about him, or a sign, some symbol of closure. I can understand that desire, and I hope this closure comes, in some form or another. Our subconscious is notoriously fickle, of course, so it seems there's no telling what exactly it will be.