To go home/What is "In Love"?
Slowly my head is getting into a more comfortable place. I've read a lot of studies on grief and apparently I am supposed to get angry with someone for dying, at some point. It's not happening. Instead I cherish what I have left, handling the people I love with extremely gentle words. They are worried but there is no need to be.
Since my grandmother died (that entry is a ways back) I feel displaced. There used to be some idea of "home" and it involved Gramma and Grampa Walt, Pookie, his mother Nina, Roger, and Clinton... in no particular order. So home was not a place so much as a feeling and now it's a memory.
Looking back I am thankful for the time I have had with these people, and astonished that I can say so many people actually love me. Not to be terribly down on myself but it's easy to see how mopey and unstable I get and the simple thing would have been for any and all of them to walk away but not one of them (you) did. DYING is not walking away... it's not giving up on me or yourself or anything else. Death is just something that is bound to happen to everyone and everything that is born. I reserve my right to be mad as Hell that Roger died the way he did because he wanted and deserved to live. He had so much to contribute and I'm just a freaking lump. I can honestly say I would have given him some of my time if such a thing were possible.
I see Walt is sick and old, Pookie's health comes and goes, Nina is feeling her age and Clint... well, Clint is about as likely to blow his head off as I am so I cherish any and all communication from him.
Some days death is all I can think about: did it hurt, will it hurt, when will it come, will I be the last person on this little list, standing alone with memories? Is it cowardly to worry so much about it?
I really don't know the difference between loving someone and being in love. If pressed to define my overall relationship with Roger or Clinton I would say "More than friends, less than lovers" and admit that from time to time I wanted to crawl into their heads so as to see the world through their eyes because both of them (in different ways) are so talented and brilliant. Does that qualify as "in love"? I only care because of this sudden need to define relationships in order to handle them properly. Boundaries have never been my strong point.
Since my grandmother died (that entry is a ways back) I feel displaced. There used to be some idea of "home" and it involved Gramma and Grampa Walt, Pookie, his mother Nina, Roger, and Clinton... in no particular order. So home was not a place so much as a feeling and now it's a memory.
Looking back I am thankful for the time I have had with these people, and astonished that I can say so many people actually love me. Not to be terribly down on myself but it's easy to see how mopey and unstable I get and the simple thing would have been for any and all of them to walk away but not one of them (you) did. DYING is not walking away... it's not giving up on me or yourself or anything else. Death is just something that is bound to happen to everyone and everything that is born. I reserve my right to be mad as Hell that Roger died the way he did because he wanted and deserved to live. He had so much to contribute and I'm just a freaking lump. I can honestly say I would have given him some of my time if such a thing were possible.
I see Walt is sick and old, Pookie's health comes and goes, Nina is feeling her age and Clint... well, Clint is about as likely to blow his head off as I am so I cherish any and all communication from him.
Some days death is all I can think about: did it hurt, will it hurt, when will it come, will I be the last person on this little list, standing alone with memories? Is it cowardly to worry so much about it?
I really don't know the difference between loving someone and being in love. If pressed to define my overall relationship with Roger or Clinton I would say "More than friends, less than lovers" and admit that from time to time I wanted to crawl into their heads so as to see the world through their eyes because both of them (in different ways) are so talented and brilliant. Does that qualify as "in love"? I only care because of this sudden need to define relationships in order to handle them properly. Boundaries have never been my strong point.