There was the sadness again and me alone with Luca, unsure of what to do. I can't cry anymore. Not the way I used to. There are no more sobs. Just an ache and a little despair. It was a hard time and now it and almost everything connected to it are gone. Physically at least. The memory remains.
I still have a shirt and a pair of pants ex-otter let me pick out from dru's clothes. I have a mirror and dru's old TV. I hate ex-otter right now for leaving me. I hate dru for dying. I hate deafgirl for taking advantage of the situation. I hurt, so I write, and I feel a little better. I always hurt again. But it lessens with time.
"Don't you think some good has come of the break up?" Well, yes. Of course. It's so hard to admit that because I fought and fought against it. Contemplated suicide multiple times. Cried everyday for months. Ran away to Florida. Missed class. How is this real? After every that has happened, how do I know that anything is real?
"What do you do when you feel the sadness?" I write. I tell myself that being angry and sad and hateful doesn't help anything. It doesn't get me anywhere but stuck. I know my feelings are getting muddled more because of Steel. I know it and it's fine and if it wasn't happening now, the same thing would be happening months down the line. I just miss him.Sometimes I hate this life I fell into, despite it being much better than the one I had before. I hate it because something was ripped from me and I can't get it back. I can't do anything about it. I am powerless. I am afraid to plan things with people. I don't want to wait for every one to eventually leave me. I don't want to think that will happen. It's hard to change these ingrained habits; especially when they've proven themselves to be true over and over. I don't want to feel this way.
I keep trying to take steps to less negative living, but every so often the cynicism returns. I miss what I had and it is gone. It will always be gone. It will never come back. It is dead, as dead as dru. As dead as the person his brother used to be. As dead as the person I was once. Dead dead dead.There are things that hurt to think about. Things I can't tell anyone yet. When the time comes, who will have the willing ear?
When the time comes, will it still matter?