(no subject)
This is something I want to remember. I never wrote about it in here and I am not sure why.
The night that Spooker died I remember I was walking back towards my apartment. I'm not even sure where I was coming from. While I was walking I was thinking about how I just wanted to find some hiding place, where I could just be, and just be alone, and just cry. It was raining quite hard. A bone-chilling rain. I decided to walk through the little park behind the private school, the park with the strange brick pagoda. When I got to the park there was someone huddled inside the pagoda. It was the homeless person who lived on the bench across from our Mt. Royal apartment for so many weeks. The one that wore that big bright sweater. The one who no one could tell if the person was a man or a woman. (I think it was a woman.) Then I felt guilty. I wanted to sit there and be cold and miserable because my dog had died. While this person was sitting there cold and miserable because she had no where to stay warm, no where to call home. I wrapped my arms around myself and I headed to the apartment, walking quite fast. I felt depressed and angry and now guilty. No one was around the apartment. I'm not sure where everyone was that night. So I immediately went into the bathroom and started the shower. I let the shower run as I laid on the bottom of the tub. Then I plugged the drain and let the water fill the tub and let it rise up and over me. I laid in that tub for a really long time, my fingertips pruny. I cried for Spooker and for the homeless woman and for myself and for everything, everything that ever seemed wrong. Then I stopped crying and felt numb. I needed to feel numb; and so, I just concentrated on the warmth of the water. I concentrated on the feeling of exhaling under the water. I tried to concentrate on these things so I didn't have to really feel. I think later I went upstairs with Christiane and Jess and we watched some movie. And I braided a necklace to keep Spooker's dog tag on.
The night that Spooker died I remember I was walking back towards my apartment. I'm not even sure where I was coming from. While I was walking I was thinking about how I just wanted to find some hiding place, where I could just be, and just be alone, and just cry. It was raining quite hard. A bone-chilling rain. I decided to walk through the little park behind the private school, the park with the strange brick pagoda. When I got to the park there was someone huddled inside the pagoda. It was the homeless person who lived on the bench across from our Mt. Royal apartment for so many weeks. The one that wore that big bright sweater. The one who no one could tell if the person was a man or a woman. (I think it was a woman.) Then I felt guilty. I wanted to sit there and be cold and miserable because my dog had died. While this person was sitting there cold and miserable because she had no where to stay warm, no where to call home. I wrapped my arms around myself and I headed to the apartment, walking quite fast. I felt depressed and angry and now guilty. No one was around the apartment. I'm not sure where everyone was that night. So I immediately went into the bathroom and started the shower. I let the shower run as I laid on the bottom of the tub. Then I plugged the drain and let the water fill the tub and let it rise up and over me. I laid in that tub for a really long time, my fingertips pruny. I cried for Spooker and for the homeless woman and for myself and for everything, everything that ever seemed wrong. Then I stopped crying and felt numb. I needed to feel numb; and so, I just concentrated on the warmth of the water. I concentrated on the feeling of exhaling under the water. I tried to concentrate on these things so I didn't have to really feel. I think later I went upstairs with Christiane and Jess and we watched some movie. And I braided a necklace to keep Spooker's dog tag on.